


A Reason to Stay

by BecauseBraime



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon through 8x03 and then fuck that shit, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Jaime does not go back to Cersei, Pining, not Dany friendly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:20:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 28
Words: 65,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22980868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BecauseBraime/pseuds/BecauseBraime
Summary: Canon through 8x03. Jaime wants to stay at Winterfell and actually does because he is not an addicted idiot. Sansa allows him to stay, but realizes his reason runs deeper than not wanting to participate in the war to come.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 342
Kudos: 431





	1. Jaime I

**Author's Note:**

> Should I really start another work when I just started two others today? Nope. Am I going to? Yup.

Jaime could hardly believe they had defeated death itself. He had ridden North knowing his life would end, but at least it would end fighting beside the one person who held his sword. Who held his heart. If he was lucky, he would get to die in her arms. He would gladly give his life for hers. If anyone deserved to see it through the Long Night, surely it was her.

But now Jaime sat very much alive in the Great Hall staring into the same pool of sapphires whose owner was the keeper to his heart. Despite the shock of it all, he couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. When earlier he placed his hand atop Brienne’s in a bid to prevent her from covering the cup of wine, he felt his heart race faster than it had when the dead charged in. He was transported back to another meal seemingly a lifetime ago when his hand caught hers. He freshly maimed and she casting daggers at their host.

Now Jaime found himself unable to take his eyes off Brienne. Jaime had never seen her smile so much as she had over the past week and every one of them was a precious gem committed to memory. To the average passerby, Brienne was simply smiling. To Jaime, each smile was unique in its own right. There was her smile of pure joy. Her smile of slight teasing. Her smile towards Pod. Her smile when he knighted her. Her smile that was accompanied by a sincere laugh at some stupid jape someone made. And best of all… the smile she bestowed on him. Jaime was so enraptured by Brienne’s current smile that he barely noticed Tyrion’s arrival to their table. With a thud, the jug of wine Tyrion had been carrying hit the table and broke Jaime’s revere.

“Brother! Here you are. I’ve barely been able to find you of late. Then again, given your recent status as our lady knight’s shadow, I should have sought her once I intended to spend time with you.” Tyrion cast a knowing smile at Jaime. Jaime was torn between punching his obnoxious little brother and covering his reddening neck. Looking away from Tyrion to cast a sideways glance at Brienne, Jaime could see a similar shade of red spreading across her cheeks.

“How about a game?” Tyrion donned a mischievous smile that set off alarms in Jaime’s head. _What is he on about? He only plays foolish games for one reason and it never ends well for the other participants_.

“Why? Your games are hardly agreeable, and we were already having a perfectly enjoyable evening without them.” Jaime threw a warning look Tyrion’s way, but his brother only pressed on. “You wound me dear brother. I just mean to have a little fun and get to know everyone better in the process. Well, you I know quite well I’m afraid, but it will be fun with my dear friend Pod and our lady knight here.”

It was Brienne’s turn to express hesitance at Tyrin’s words. “I’m not one for games, but don’t stop yourselves from my playing on my account. I should find Lady Sansa anyway and see if she has need of me for anything.” Brienne moved to stand and Jaime grabbed her arm with his left hand. “No! It’s a feast _Ser_ Brienne. I’m certain Lady Sansa is just fine. Please don’t leave Pod and I with this insufferable man.” Tyrion feigned offense at Jaime’s words, but chuckled.

“I promise it’s a fun game, truly. One only meant to prompt conversation. It is simple really. I make a guess about your past. If I’m correct, you take a sip of your wine. If I’m incorrect, I take a sip of my wine. If you don’t like the game, you can stop at any point.” Brienne appeared hesitant and glanced between Jaime and Pod before begrudgingly agreeing to play.

The game started out carefree enough. No overly invasive questions came up and most centered around their various childhoods. Jaime felt a heightened sense of protectiveness whenever Tyrion cast his sights on Brienne, but the questions were safe and stuck to interests, Tarth, education, and the likes. Soon everyone at the table was a bit more relaxed and questions became slightly more personal.

“You were married… before Sansa.” Brienne cast a glance at Jaime; a sly smile on her face. Jaime’s heart skipped a beat before he turned to his brother with a smirk and bid him drink. Then it all went to shit. Tyrion pulled himself to sit straighter, his back rigid and his eyes locked on Brienne. Jaime felt himself holding his breath in anticipation of what was to come. “You’re a virgin.”

 _What in the seven hells!_ “That’s a statement about the present.” Jaime interjected while glaring at Tyrion before casting an apologetic look back at Brienne who was frozen in place. The smile previously spread across her face had evaporated. _No. No. No._ Tyrion shrugged and rephrased. “Fine. At no point in the past up until this very moment have you slept with a man… or a woman.”

“Tyrion! She is a highborn lady and unwed. It is hardly an appropriate question.” Jaime turned to Brienne. “You don’t need answer my idiot brother.” Brienne’s face was devoid of any mirth and before Jaime could attempt to deflect further, he heard the voice of that blasted wildling.

“We did it! We faced those icy fucks. Looked right into their blue eyes and here we are! Now which one of you cowards shit in my pants? Ha!” Tormund raised his drinking horn and wine sloshed out sloppily to the floor as he enjoyed his own joke. Any joy at the table quickly died as the wildling cast his attention onto Brienne.

“My lady knight! I was hoping we could celebrate our victory together… in private.” His eyebrows raised suggestively at Brienne who seemed to shrink in on herself further. Jaime felt an all too familiar sensation course through his body. Jealousy.

“She is celebrating just fine without you Giantsbane. Why don’t you head back to your table and take my brother with you. He shares your taste in humor and proclivities.” Jaime could barely contain the bitterness in his voice at the use of the wilding’s name. Tormund turned his body towards Jaime and sucked in a large breath, puffing out his chest.

“I wasn’t talkin’ to you King Killer. I was talkin’ to my lady knight.” Jaime stood abruptly from his chair, fist clenched at his side, nostrils flaring. “She isn’t _your_ lady knight.” At Jaime’s retort, the wilding bumped his chest against Jaime’s. Jaime was surprised at the realization that he was taller than the man. Perhaps it had been Tormund’s over the top personality and wide shoulders covered by heavy furs that made Jaime assume he was smaller than the wildling, but Tormund was a good half head shorter than him. The realization made Jaime smirk and chuckle slightly which only enraged the redhead further.

“Gentlemen, we’re celebrating. Please, have a seat. Both of you.” Tyrion spoke in a beseeching tone as activity around the great hall seemed to come to a grinding halt as the two men stood toe to toe. Jaime could feel the stares of most in the hall and the conflicting conversations around them seemed to die out.

Suddenly, Jaime heard Brienne’s voice; barely a whisper as if only intending the message for those at the table. “I think I best retire for the night. I’m quite tired. I’ll see you all on the morrow.” Before Jaime could respond, Brienne had bolted from the hall. Tormund’s snarling expression dropped into a forlorn look as he backed away from the table and returned to his group of wildlings. Jaime sat down dejectedly and spoke at Tyrion through gritted teeth. “Are you happy now. You’ve managed to take an otherwise enjoyable evening and ruin it.”

Tyrion had the good grace to appear ashamed. “I’m sorry. I only meant to have a little fun. I didn’t realize it was such a sensitive subject. It was an innocent question. Besides, I think it was Tormund who truly killed the mood.”

“Innocent!? What did you hope to gain from the question other than to embarrass her? She isn’t some whore working the brothels. She is a highborn lady and the most honorable woman in all of Westeros.” Tyrion’s jaw flapped open and shut like a fish.

“I meant no harm. Truly. I’ll apologize to her on the morrow. Or perhaps we can go seek her out now…” Jaime cut his brother off abruptly and spoke in angry, hushed tones. “No. Just leave her be.” Jaime could feel Tyrion’s judgmental eyes boring into his face. Pod seemed to be studying every marking on the wooden table and refused to look at either of the brothers. With a sigh, Tyrion slid from his seat and patted Jaime on the shoulder. “Truly Jaime. I am sorry to have offended her. I will make it right. I know how much you… _care_ for her.” With the less than subtle insinuation, Tyrion was off.

Jaime raised his eyes to meet Pod’s. The lad gave a sad smile before turning his attention back to two serving maids; a broad smile pulling at the boy’s lips. After a few not so subtle looks were exchanged between the three, Pod looked back to Jaime with an apologetic expression. “I ummm… think I’ll get some rest to Ser Jaime. I’ll see you on the morrow.” Jaime huffed a small laugh and raised his glass to Pod. “Good for you Podrick. See you on the morrow.”

As Pod headed off, Jaime downed the rest of his wine and pushed around the cup on the table; eyes cast down and thoughts going to Brienne. _Is she alright? Does she want someone to talk to or is she truly tired?_ _Would she want that stupid wildling to comfort her? Has he? Would she be upset or disappointed to find me at her door?_

Before the string of unpleasant thoughts could continue swirling in Jaime’s mind, he felt the presence of someone at his side. Turning to his right, he saw Lady Sansa sit down next to him and cast an unimpressed gaze his way.

“Do you intend on instigating anymore fights in my home tonight?” The young wolf’s tone was cold and clipped. _Gods she is just like her mother._

“I thought I might try my hand at pissing off one of Daenerys’ men next. I figure the North and Wildings already hate me so why not ensure the feeling is mutual amongst all here.”

Sansa huffed and looked back out towards the mass of men and women celebrating their victory over the dead. She bit at her lower lip in contemplation before turning her attention back to him. The lady of Winterfell inhaled and spoke in a tone that brokered no argument nor deflection. “Why are you still here?”

Jaime was caught off guard by the question. “I’m sorry? I thought anyone could attend the feast. Would you prefer I leave? I don’t mind. I would likely enjoy my own company better than that of those here anyway.”

Sansa rolled her eyes at the response and pressed again. “I don’t mean the feast. I mean here… in the North. The war with the dead is over. You honored your oath to fight for the living. It has been near a week since the dead fell and you’ve done nothing but follow around my sworn sword and avoid everyone else.”

Jaime felt his throat tighten at the words. _Is she going to ask me to leave? Where will I go? I don't want to leave Brienne. I can’t go back to King’s Landing. I can hardly go to the Rock. Surely Aunt Genna intends to support Cersei in this war._ “I have no reason nor intention to return to King’s Landing. I only have reason to stay here I suppose.” Jaime’s thought turned to Cersei. They had not parted on good terms what with her threatening to have him killed and all. Truth be told, it was a relief to Jaime. He had come to despise Cersei the last couple of years. Things had not been the same since his return from captivity with Brienne in tow, but Jaime’s distaste for Cersei only heightened after her use of wildfire against her perceived enemies; the killing of innocents barely an afterthought to his twin.

Sansa continued to stare at him and Jaime watched as a small smile tugged at her lips. “Give me a reason to let you stay and I’ll be the judge of that.”


	2. Sansa I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa POV - Sansa confronts Jaime at the feast and tries to sort through her opinions of the man and her observations of him during his stay at Winterfell.

Sansa had been watching Jaime since his arrival at Winterfell. At first Sansa watched Jaime as she was weary of his intentions. He claimed nothing but a desire to honor his pledge to fight for the living, but such a thing would hardly be the first time a Lannister lied to further his or her own agenda. Sansa was surprised to see Brienne stand in front of Jaime against Daenerys and vouch for him. She knew little of the pair’s history together. Brienne certainly was not much of a talker, but she had previously shared that Jaime always treated her honorably. There were few people Sansa would trust her life with, but Brienne was one of them. If Brienne vouched for the Kingslayer, there must be something more to the man than Sansa was privy to.

Over the course of Jaime’s stay at Winterfell, both the preparation for the battle and the days after, Sansa was surprised to observe the interactions between her sworn sword and the Kingslayer. Gone was Sansa’s fear of Jaime betraying them all to further some secretive plan of Cersei’s. Instead, Sansa was shocked to see the obvious depth of the Kingslayer’s feelings for Brienne. He didn’t just follow Brienne around, mindlessly prattling on and trying to get a reaction from her. When Brienne wasn’t looking, the Kingslayer’s features would soften drastically like a young boy with his first crush. If Sansa didn’t know if Jaime’s background, she would think him completely smitten with Brienne. It was near painful to watch.

That night of the feast, Sansa observed the adoration pouring from Jaime’s eyes as he mooned over Brienne. She saw the jealousy on the Kingslayer’s face when Tormund approached the table and spoke to Brienne. She saw the dejection at Brienne’s withdrawal from the feast and the loneliness that took hold of the Kingslayer after.

Now Sansa sat before the man and enjoyed watching him squirm under her gaze while attempting to deflect her questions with nothing but self-deprecating japes and feigned ignorance. _He reminds me so much of Tyrion at times_. “Give me a reason to let you stay and I’ll be the judge of that.”

Sansa watched as Jaime looked taken aback by her question. The Kingslayer began to stammer a reply and became visibly uncomfortable as he began shifting in his seat. “I could help restore the castle…”

“You have one hand. I imagine it will be hard to rebuild a castle with such a limitation.” Sansa arched a brow and awaited his reply.

“Well yes, my hand is gone, but I still have strength in the arm and have become quite adept at performing physical labor with the one hand. I did survive the dead after all. I also think I moved one thousand dead myself from the inner walls to the pyres over the past few days. I can surely handle some rocks.”

Sansa held her mask, betraying none of her thoughts. “I could consider it. Do you have a better reason than that?”

Again, Jaime seemed lost for an answer as he scanned the room before looking back to her. “Should Cersei somehow win, you know she will come for you. I know the Lannister army better than anyone. I trained them. I could help lead defense against them. I don’t know the Golden Company, but they will likely be taking orders from _my_ men.”

 _Well, at this he makes an excellent point_. “And why would you help me against your sister? Your _lover_.” Jaime flinched at her words and looked down at the table.

“That… was a mistake. A rather longstanding mistake, but a mistake, nonetheless. I haven’t loved her in a very long. Even then, what we had was hardly love. I realize that now.”

Sansa again considered his words and challenged him once more. “Tyrion tells me that your sister is pregnant.”

Jaime huffed in response and rolled his eyes. “Yes, well unfortunately I might have perpetuated that lie. Tyrion seemed so upset at not anticipating her betrayal. Cersei did claim to be pregnant. To Tyrion. To me. To anyone within earshot. Truthfully, I think she means to further her position by claiming an heir is on the way. Without an heir apparent, I imagine she might receive less backing from those near her when Daenerys brings her armies and dragons south.”

Sansa contemplated his words before continuing. Lowering her voice to a barely audible level, Sansa probed further. “And if Daenerys wins. Will you back the North’s claim for independence?” Jaime stiffened in his seat and considered her question. Lowering his voice in return, Jaime nodded. “I don’t trust her. Reminds me too much of her father.”

Perhaps he could rally the West to our cause. Shifting to a different topic, Sansa studied the man before her. “I was surprised to hear you lost that hand defending Brienne.”

Jaime looked incredulous at her comment. “Why should that surprise anyone. Brienne is worth well more than a hand.”

Sansa couldn’t contain the smile from her face at his words. “I never said _she_ wasn’t worth it. I am merely surprised that you of all people, the Golden Lion, so willingly forfeited the very part of himself that he was best known for.”

Jaime shrunk back after his initial flash of anger. “I wouldn’t have called it willing, but it is a price I would pay again.” Sansa scrutinized his face as he said the words and decided to push further. To see how much he would give away.

“Brienne never spoke much of your travels together. Only that you treated her honorably. Were you there when she received those scars I’ve seen on her collarbone?”

At the mention of Brienne’s scars, Sansa watched as Jaime tried to mask the painful flash of a memory _. Oh he was. Interesting._ Jaime looked away for a moment to collect himself before answering. “Yes. Bolton’s man… Locke. The same one that took my hand. He threw her into a bear pit with not but a wooden sword to defend herself.” Jaime spat the last sentence from his lips as if poison.

Sansa had never heard the tale from Brienne and caught herself gasping at the Kingslayer’s words. “They did what!? Why!?”

Jaime’s brows furrowed in anger as Sansa observed his face darken with what she imagined to be the memory of that day. “Roose Bolton released me under care of his guards to continue the journey back to King’s Landing. He gave Brienne as a reward to his pet rat, Locke.” Jaime pursed his lips in anger and exhaled loudly before continuing. “I shouldn’t have left her.” He muttered the words more to himself than Sansa. “I was on my way to King’s Landing and heard that her father’s ransom had been rejected by Locke. My lie to spare her rape from Locke’s men backfired. They thought Lord Tarth meant to cheat them. So, they threw her into a bear pit for their own amusement. She was of no value to them.”

Sansa had to take a moment to catch her breath. Memories of her own rape and torture at the hands of Ramsey flooded back to her like waves crashing ashore during a storm. “How did she escape?”

Jaime turned then to look at Sansa for the first time in some minutes. “I bade Bolton’s men return me to Harrenhal. Fortunately, we got there in time. I jumped in to get between her and the bear. Stupidly I had no real plan and was unarmed, but the men in my group shot the bear with an arrow. That bought us enough time to climb out. Then we continued along our way to King’s Landing. You know the rest of course. You were as much a prisoner there as Brienne was. A ‘guest’ of the crown.” Jaime rolled his eyes at the words and Sansa understood his meaning.

“So you sent her off to find me? To complete your oath to my mother?” Sansa searched Jaime’s eyes for confirmation of the answer she already knew.

“Yes. It was the only way to keep her safe. Well… and to honor the oath I suppose. I should have gone with her, but I was weak. Pathetic really. I sat back idly while Cersei destroyed everything and everyone in her path. I should have stopped Cersei earlier.” Jaime trailed off slightly at the last statement. His eyes wandering as if lost in though.

Sansa still did not fully trust the man, but it was painfully clear that this was more than slight longing for Brienne. The man before her was in love with Brienne. Sansa found herself chuckling quietly. _The younger version of myself would have though this a truly romantic tale. The good-looking knight saving the maiden from rape and a bear. Sending her off to save her. Coming to her aid as death itself march against her. Now I know better. Now I understand the Kingslayer’s love as nothing more than a tragedy. A longing for someone he desires and circumstance could not let him have. Left him pining from afar. Maybe now is there time._

“Very well Ser Jaime. You can stay. Do whatever you please. Help rebuild. Help train the men that stay behind. Help form a plan for whoever may emerge the victor in King’s Landing. All I have is one condition to your indefinite presence here.” Jaime looked back to Sansa; a mix of relief and surprise on his face.

“Do tell my sworn sword you’re in love with her. The pining is painful to watch. Quite obvious and frankly a little pathetic.”

Sansa watched as Jaime stared at her; mouth gaping like a fish out of water struggling to breathe.

“I don’t… what? Why would you…”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “You know the one. Tall. Blonde. Ferocious fighter who you happily served under in battle and I imagine you would love to continue _serving under_. Lets not play this game. I have far more pressing things to argue with people about than the obvious. I trust Daenerys more than I believe you to _not_ be in love with my sworn sword.”

Sansa stood to leave the Kingslayer, his mouth still gaping and seemingly incapable of forming a complete sentence. Placing a hand on his shoulder, Sansa leaned in an whispered a parting suggestion. “Try telling her without starting a fight with Tormund during a celebratory feast. That might be a better approach. She would not be impressed otherwise.”

With that, Sansa walked towards the Hound for a long overdue conversation. She smiled to herself as she considered the entertainment sure to come her way with the Kingslayer staying behind and trying… and failing… to disguise his love for Brienne.


	3. Jaime II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime mulls over Sansa's words and spends some quality time with his favorite knight.

Jaime awoke the morning after the feast with a slight headache on account of the copious amounts of wine he drank after his discussion with Sansa. He had spent the better part of the evening wondering what kind of fool he must have looked like trailing Brienne around and stealing glances at her when he thought no one was looking. Part of Jaime wanted nothing more than to walk to her room, wake her from sleep, confess his love for her, and request her hand in marriage. The other part of Jaime, the more sensible part that was painfully aware of how little he had to offer Brienne, reminded him to keep his distance. To accept that the best he could hope for was to fight by her side. To give his life for hers should it come to that.

Sitting upright in bed, Jaime rubbed at his throbbing head with his stump and reached for the glass of water left unfinished from the night prior. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Jaime stood from bed and padded over to the dying embers in his hearth. Jaime let out a light chuckle at the memory of Brienne’s words just a day after the battle with the dead when he went to her room to check on her. “It’s the first thing I learned in the north. Always keep the firing going.” It had felt like an inferno in her quarters and Jaime had to repeatedly remind himself not to strip off layers of clothing in a desperate bid to cool his body from the heat of the fire and his nerves at being so close to Brienne in private.

Throwing another log on the fire, Jaime walked towards the table where he had haphazardly discarded his clothing from the night prior before falling into bed. He pulled on his breeches and tunic before bending to the floor to retrieve his discarded jerkin and cloak. _I really need to get more clothing if I’m to stay here. Surely Brienne doesn’t want to smell me arriving before seeing me._

After running through his hair with his good hand, Jaime made his way out of his assigned chambers and towards the great hall to break his fast. As he walked in, Jaime’s eyes caught sight of Brienne. She stood next to a seated Sansa and was bent slightly at the waist, leaning towards the young wolf who spoke quietly to her sworn sword. Jaime must have been staring for too long, because Sansa’s eyes soon locked on his and a smirk spread across her face. Looking down in embarrassment, Jaime felt his neck and ears flame as he made his way towards the table that had unofficially become his, Pod’s, and Brienne’s.

Jaime was relieved when not but a minute past before Pod stumbled into the great hall and slumped into the chair across from him. A smug smile spread across the young man’s face and Jaime found himself slightly envious of the boy, but also proud. “Pod. I trust you didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Pod’s smile widened and his brows rose slightly at Jaime’s words. “I’m a bit tired my lord, but the feast was worth it.” Pod chuckled slightly at his own words and Jaime couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his own lips.

The two men engaged in idle conversation until Jaime felt an approaching figure to his left. Looking up, Jaime observed Brienne walking towards them; her brows slightly furrowed in confusion. As she approached their table, Brienne’s eyes darted between the pair of men and she stood rather than sat near her usual seat. “Ser Jaime. Lady Sansa has informed me that you’ll be staying at Winterfell indefinitely. I am to show you to your new quarters.”

Jaime was caught off guard by the words and formality of Brienne’s tone. Looking towards Lady Sansa, Jaime observed the young wolf’s lips turn up ever so slightly in amusement as she looked down at her porridge before continuing her meal. Jaime looked back to Brienne and smiled up at her before replying. “I see. Have you eaten yet?”

Brienne shook her head in denial and Jaime waved his hand at the empty seat. “Well neither have I. Do you suppose we could accomplish that task first? Surely the change of room can wait. I just put a log on after all.” Jaime smirked a bit at the private reference and he was thrilled to see Brienne’s face soften as she sat down across from him. “Very well. First, we will eat and then I’ll show you to your room. Pod, good to see you’re awake before the sun is positioned directly over the castle.” Brienne cast a knowing look at Pod who looked slightly sheepish; all arrogance previously displayed in his conversation with Jaime had dissipated like a child being scolded by a parent.

“Yes, my lady. I mean ser. I am ready to train in the yard after you show Ser Jaime to his new room.” Pod smiled slightly and startled by the serving maid who walked to their table to drop off three bowls of porridge and breakfast meats. _Ah... one of the lad’s ladies from last night. How perfect._

Jaime cast a knowing glance at Pod and smiled as he locked eyes with the maid. “Thank you! Glad to see so many up and looking _refreshed_ this morning. I thought the castle would be half dead after such a celebration.” Jaime suppressed a chuckle as Pod kicked him sharply under the table.

The maid flushed at Jaime’s words and her eyes darted between Pod and Jaime. “Yes, my lord. There is much to do these days.” Jaime’s smile widened at the young maid before replying. “Oh, I bet there is _much to do_.” Brienne looked between the trio with confusion evident in her eyes. With a slight curtsey, the maid darted back towards the kitchen and Pod threw a piece of breakfast meat at Jaime’s head. Jaime howled with laughter at the young man’s frustration. “I doubt I’m the only person whose face has come that close to your meat of late.”

Brienne caught on at Jaime’s last statement and Jaime watched as she flushed in embarrassment. “Ser Jaime! That is hardly appropriate.” Brienne shifted to face Pod more fully. “Podrick. Meet me in the yard in an hour’s time. We will have extra drills today.” Pod looked down at his porridge and grumpily shoved the food into his mouth. “Yes ser.”

Brienne shot a glare back at Jaime who was happily shoving food rapidly into his mouth. He knew where this was going. “I’ve lost my appetite. Ser Jaime. When you’re ready.” Using his sleeve as a napkin, Jaime shoved the last bit of porridge into his mouth and offered Brienne a winning smile. “Lead the way my lady.”

Brienne strode down the hallways of Winterfell and Jaime struggled to keep up. He was trying desperately to think of what to say when she inevitably asked him why he was staying at Winterfell. _No doubt she expected me to go running back to Cersei with my tail tucked between my legs._

Jaime was surprised to find that they were near her room. Just one door down in fact. Brienne looked slightly uncomfortable and pointed at the door before them. “Lady Sansa has instructed me to place you here.” Opening the door, Brienne tilted her head to imply he should move inside. Taking a step closer, Jaime paused and looked at the door just to the right. “Isn’t that your room there?”

Brienne nodded in affirmation. _Great. Sansa means to torture me then._ Jaime sighed and stepped inside. Looking around the room, he observed that it was a good deal larger than the room he had currently been assigned to. Evidently a benefit to being placed in the family wing. Jaime looked back to Brienne and shrugged, putting on his best Lannister play at arrogance. “I suppose it will suffice. I bit drafty. A lot dusty. I suppose the Starks don’t ordinarily entertain many guests this far north.”

Brienne rolled her eyes, but then looked to the floor. “Why are you staying here? You’ve done more than enough to honor your pledge to the North. Surely you would prefer to return home. Daenerys did grant you safe passage as a means to honor the agreement made at the Dragon Pit.”

Jaime huffed a laugh and turned more fully to face Brienne. “Oh, the meeting where my sister lied and betrayed all of humanity? Yes, I imagine that is an agreement the dragon queen means to honor.” Jaime observed the flash of irritation at his words and knew he needed to be more honest with Brienne. Clearly it wouldn’t do to be _completely_ honest, but at a minimum more honest. “I have no desire to go back to King’s Landing, Brienne. There is nothing there for me. Everyone I care for is here right now.”

Brienne looked shocked at his words but did not push him further on the matter. _Thank the Gods for Brienne’s limited desire for conversation and probing_. Clearing her throat, Brienne spoke again. “Will you require anything else here?”

Jaime ran his hand through his hair and looked around. “No. There is a bed which is already more than I expected from a Stark when it comes to extending hospitality to a Lannister. Then again if I need anything, my commander is just next door.” At the latter statement, Jaime cast a smirk at Brienne who only rolled her eyes in response. Summoning the courage, Jaime sucked in a breath and threw a more serious look Brienne’s way. “May I train with you and Pod this morning?”

Brienne smiled at his request and nodded. “Of course, Ser Jaime. I’ll leave you to it. I imagine you’ll want to move your things. See you in the training yard in an hour.” _Ser Jaime. Always so damn formal._

Brienne moved to exit but paused at the door. Looking over her shoulder, Brienne spoke quietly. “I’m glad you’re staying.” Before Jaime could respond, Brienne was swiftly out of the room; the sound of her footsteps betraying her location which was already quite far from his new room. Jaime felt like a fool as he couldn’t prevent the wide smile from spreading across his face and his heart skipped a beat as he replayed her words in his head. _Me too._

An hour later, Jaime made his way out into the yard. Like a beacon of light in the darkness, Jaime’s eyes landed on Brienne’s blonde hair blowing slightly in the wind as she sparred Pod. The young man looked exhausted. Jaime knew they had only just met up to begin sparring, but the lad already looked an hour into the session. Brienne on the other hand was barely breaking a sweat. She was glorious and had forgone her armor today in favor of a heavy jerkin and fitted breeches. Jaime walked closer and removed his cloak to set aside before drawing his sword.

“Maybe let the lad take a break. He had a long night after all.” Pod’s eyes flashed in equal parts irritation and relief. Brienne took advantage of Pod’s momentary distraction and disarmed the lad. “Never take your eyes off an opponent! How many times have I told you that?” Pod leaned down to retrieve his sword while muttering an apology to his mentor.

“Very well Pod. Have a break, but don’t go far. The last time Ser Jaime thought to have a spar with me, it ended with him on his ass in the middle of a bridge.” Jaime enjoyed this side of Brienne. Confident and japing with him.

“In fairness my lady, I was rather malnourished and chained at the time.” Jaime gave a mock bow as he stepped before Brienne; eyes shining with mirth as he looked her over. Brienne raised her sword and they began a dance that felt to Jaime like both the first and millionth time their swords clashed.

Brienne was stronger and faster than he remembered. She disarmed him several times during their sparring session, but Jaime had never felt so happy and alive. His blood was signing with delight and he felt as though he could spar her all day without tiring. With a strong swing, Brienne’s blade came toward Jaime and he raised Oathkeeper’s twin to block the blow. Spinning out of the way, he launched a counterattack, but Brienne was too fast. She spun under Jaime’s swing while raising her sword to deflect the blow and kicked his legs out from under him. Jaime landed flat on his back and found a sword pointed at his throat. Putting up his hands in surrender, Jaime laughed while offering “I yield.” Brienne’s chest heaved from exertion and she moved to sheath her sword. Noting her distraction, Jaime caught her left leg between his own and knocked her off balance to the ground.

Brienne let out a surprised yelp at the unexpected attack and Jaime quickly positioned himself atop her; a dagger from his sword belt at her throat and a triumphant smile on his face. “Never take your eyes off an opponent.” Jaime mimicked her words previously directed at Pod and cast a smirk at her while Pod laughed from the sidelines. Brienne’s eyes flashed with a mix or irritation and mirth as she quickly moved to lock his left arm into a firm hold; smoothly dislodging the dagger from his hand as she rolled out from under him, Brienne flipped him onto his back and straddled his body as she positioned herself atop him. With a left forearm lodged firmly against his throat, Brienne pinned his left wrist over his head.

Jaime’s mirth gave way to shock and slight embarrassment as his body began to react to the new position. Brienne was sitting astride him and given her height, she was able to pin her forearm to his throat while sitting quite low across his hips. In a desperate bid to move her away from his growing cock, Jaime began thrashing about. Unfortunately, this only made matters worse as she pressed on him harder. _Oh Gods. Kill me now._ “I yield! Brienne please!” Jaime kept moving his hips wildly in a state of complete embarrassment and desperation. And then he saw it. The realization in her eyes.

She quickly moved off him, her face reddening as Jaime pulled himself to a seated position. “I’m sorry Ser Jaime.” Brienne took off quickly towards the castle and didn’t look back once. Jaime sat on the cold, snow-covered ground trying to collect himself and calm his breathing. A shadow slowly moved over him and Pod’s voice cut through the crisp air. “Ser Jaime. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine Pod. Just…” Jaime’s voice trailed off, but Pod’s presence remained. “Are you hurt. I can get the maester if…”

“I said I’m fine Pod! Just uh… couldn’t breathe for a moment. She is quite strong.” _Fucking idiot. I should have just let her have the victory._

“Aye. She is. I’ve found myself flat on my back several times when sparring her.” _Gods that image will surely help resolve my current situation_. A hand came into view as Pod offered assistance.

Jaime met the younger man’s eyes and shook his head. “I’m fine. Truly. I’ll be in momentarily. You go on.” Pod nodded at Jaime and retreated towards the castle, collecting his sword and cloak on the way. Jaime huffed in frustration. Sansa’s mocking words from last night rang in his mind. _‘I’m sure you would love to continue serving under her.’ Fucking Starks. Fucking North. Fucking cock with a mind of its own._

Looking back to the castle, Jaime slowly stood and picked up his discarded sword and dagger. _I need to find Brienne and explain myself. Hopefully she isn’t uncomfortable nor ask me to leave._

Jaime trudged back through the light coating of snow towards the castle. Making his way to Brienne’s room, he swallowed deeply and mustered the courage to knock on her door. Jaime heard Brienne’s footsteps approach the door and the door swing back abruptly. “Pod I said I’ll…” Upon seeing Jaime slumped against her doorframe, Brienne stopped short of completing her sentence and a slight confusion settled over her face. The confusion quickly gave way to discomfort as she looked down at the floor. “Sorry I thought you were Pod.”

Jaime stood up straight and cleared his throat. “No. Sorry to disappoint. May I come in?”

Brienne moved out of the way and motioned for him to enter. Jaime watched as she left the door ajar slightly and he immediately regretted his decision to approach her so soon after the awkward incident in the training yard. “Uhhhh… about the sparring match. I just wanted…”

“I understand Ser Jaime. I apologize for that. I don’t think we need to speak on it further.”

Jaime’s eyes snapped to Brienne's face which had reddened and she was again looking at the floor. _Why is she apologizing to me? I need to tell her the truth. The truth of why I’m here. Of why I wish to stay. Will that push her over the edge? Will she insist that I leave?_

“Ummm… well to be honest…The real reason I...”

“I said we don’t need to discuss it. Please…” Brienne interrupted his words and Jaime quickly realized she did not want to hear it. _I don’t blame her. I wouldn’t want someone who spent most of their life fucking a sibling either._

“Right. Well… shall I meet you later for dinner? I was thinking of just taking a bath beforehand...” _Oh Gods don’t talk about baths. Don't think about baths. Don't think about Harrenhal and Brienne’s defiant face; water cascading off her cheeks and breasts. Her lean, wet body._

“That’s fine. I’ll see you then.” Brienne’s words saved Jaime from anther embarrassing situation as his mind conjured images from their shared past. Images that had tormented his daydreams for years now. Bowing slightly, Jaime rushed back to his room and sat on his bed in frustration, raking his hand through his hair. _Gods I am truly pathetic. Even if Brienne wasn’t repulsed by me I can’t even form at fucking sentence around her of late._

Jaime made his way to the baths and washed quickly. He spent the rest of the day milling about Winterfell and offering assistance where needed. As he made his way into the great hall for dinner, Jaime began to walk towards the usual table. Looking ahead, Jaime stopped short. There across from Brienne in his usual seat was Tormund fucking Giantsbane.


	4. Brienne I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne reflects on her day and Tormund makes an offer she wants nothing more than to refuse.

Brienne could hardly believe her luck that day. After making a fool of herself in the training yard, Brienne found herself staring into the face of Tormund Giantsbane. The day couldn’t possibly get any worse.

After last night’s mortifying game, Brienne had hoped most would spend the day abed recovering. To her dismay, many were up and about at the usual time. Sansa greeted her with a strange smile and proceeded to tell her that Ser Jaime would be staying indefinitely at Winterfell.

Brienne thought it strange and worried that Jaime was as much as guest in Winterfell as Sansa had been in King’s Landing. It had been inevitable in Brienne’s mind. Since the moment the dead fell, Brienne knew it was a matter of when, not if, Jaime would make his way back to Cersei. When Jaime confessed the decision to stay was of his own volition, Brienne was shocked. _Why would he stay here? Surely there must be more to the story._

Then the sparring session happened. Brienne had been oblivious to the inappropriate position of her body on Jaime’s having been lost in the thrill of getting him back for his own surprise attack. When her body pressed down onto his and she realized what had happened, she wanted to crawl into one of the remaining trenches from the battle and die of embarrassment. _He probably assumes me some wanting fool. Desiring what I obviously cannot have. Ugly beast that I am. Worse yet if he thinks I misunderstood his decision to stay as anything to do with me._

Now sitting in the dining hall, Brienne was disrupted from her thoughts by the presence of Tormund. Since Brienne had met Tormund, she was repulsed by the man. Certainly, he was a brave, fierce warrior and Brienne respected that about him, but he had no sense of decency and social decorum. Brienne recognized she was an eyesore at court, but at least she knew to keep a low profile. She knew to avoid making a scene and at best, hope to be overlooked. That is what her septa had taught her at least. _‘You’re not built for love nor court girl. You don’t have the looks, grace, or personality for it. Make yourself scarce. The best you can hope for is to be ignored.’_

Tormund on the other hand seemed to seek out opportunities to command attention of a room. His booming voice, carefree attitude, and inappropriate speech unnerved Brienne. Tormund represented everything Brienne was told not to be. A small part of Brienne envied the man for that. He didn’t seem to care what anyone thought of him. As much as Brienne pretended not to care, the words still hurt.

 _Is that a woman? You’re much uglier in daylight. Have you known many men, women, horses?_ Jaime’s words echoed in her mind. Just one voice of many. It was easy to feign indifference. She had heard the words so many times, just phrased differently, that they felt as natural a way to describe herself as any other physical characteristic. Blonde. Tall. Ugly. Blue eyes. Graceless. Lean. Undesirable.

“My lady knight! We never got to finish our conversation at the feast. I was hopin’ to talk to ya alone.” The man’s bushy red brows rose suggestively at the words. Brienne felt her stomach tighten in attempt to hold onto its contents. Pod exhaled loudly at her side and shook his head. 

“Yes, well I was rather tired. It has been a long week.” Brienne hoped the wildling would pick up on her uninterested intonations, but that approach had not worked in years. Brienne played with the fork in her hand and pushed some vegetables back and forth on her plate. All desire to eat rapidly abandoning her.

“Aye, it has. All the more reason to spend time in bed. Celebrate our victory in other ways.” Brienne nearly spat out her food at the man’s words and Pod huffed in frustration next to her. “Seven hells.”

Before Brienne could respond, Pod’s right arm shot up and began waving animatedly. Brienne followed his gaze and saw Jaime who looked like he would rather be swallowed whole by Drogon than sit with them. _Gods why won’t this day end._ Brienne watched as Jaime begrudgingly made his way to the table. _Maybe I should leave. Save everyone the discomfort this seating arrangement is sure to bring._

Jaime sat down next to Tormund but maintained a respectable distance from the man. “Pod. Ser Brienne… Giantsbane…” Jaime gritted his teeth at Tormund’s name and barely acknowledge the man beyond uttering his name. The wildling broke into a smile and looked between Brienne and Jaime.

“King killer! How good of ya to join us. Well I suppose the pressure is really on now. Two of ya southerners to keep me honest. I been talking to Snow and he says there are southron ways to this.” Brienne looked inquisitively at the wildling who donned a beaming smile.

“My people, when we want a woman, we steal her! Just take her from her bed. Spearwives! We appreciate our warrior women unlike you southrons. I bet this one could fight me like no other, but Snow told me not to do that with ya Lady Knight. Says I need to follow ya customs and do it proper. Snow says I must court ya and betroth ya.” Tormund made a dramatic show of standing from his seat and grabbing Brienne’s hand, trying to pull it to his lips. Brienne resisted and tried to pull her hand back, but Tormund was too strong.

“Ohhhh I like it. Fighting me already I see.” Tormund was not only undeterred, but seemingly turned on by her refusal to let his lips touch her hand. Brienne felt her face flame as men from nearby tables turned to watch the scene and began to laugh. Pod and Jaime merely looked on in shock. _Stranger take me now._

Raising his voice for the entire hall to hear. “I want to betroth ya lady knight!” Brienne could feel the heat emanating from her face and she looked down at her plate. Gritting her teeth, Brienne implored Tormund to cease this nonsense. “Tormund. Please sit down. Sit down now.”

Tormund only continued putting on a dramatic show for the hall, bowing ridiculously “My lady knight! My big woman! Do you accept?” The laughter was spreading at the nearby tables and Brienne could hear the japes starting. Every part of Brienne wanted to flee, but she feared drawing more attention to herself or worse yet, Tormund following her.

Suddenly she felt a shadow settle over her. Looking up, Jaime was standing between her and Tormund, speaking in hushed tones. “She said to sit down. You’re embarrassing her.” Tormund looked genuinely surprised at his words.

“Is this not the way?” Tormund waved his hands at Brienne and turned towards the front of the room as though trying to find someone. His eyes settled on Jon who only shook his head in looked down at his meal.

“It is not. Sit down and shut up.” Jaime spat the words through gritted teeth and Tormund sat down in a huff. Jaime glared at the nearby tables which prompted them to immediately turn back to their plates and stifle any laughter directed at Brienne and Tormund. 

“For some reason, I’ve lost my appetite. Lady Brienne if you’re done eating, I could use some guidance back to my newly assigned room. This castle is a maze. I believe the Starks mean to kill off unwanted guests by getting them lost. Can you help me?”

 _Thank the Gods._ “Of course. Goodnight Pod. Tormund.” Brienne walked away briskly and could sense Jaime at her heels. As they entered the hallway, Brienne let out a frustrated breath.

“Thank you.” She said the words to the wall more than Jaime, but at a volume Brienne knew he could hear.

“Of course! My ladyyyyy knight.” Jaime gave an exaggerated bow, mimicking Tormund’s words and tone and Brienne couldn’t control the loud guffaw that escaped her lips. When she finally regained her composure, she met Jaime’s eyes and her breath caught. _Why does he keep looking at me like that? Is he drunk? I never saw him drink wine today._

As if broken from a trance, Jaime smiled and looked to the floor before extending his left arm to Brienne. “So will you help a poor, aged knight such as myself find his room? And be quick bout it before the wildling comes to steal you away.” Brienne rolled her eyes and took his arm, pulling him forward roughly.

Jaime smiled broadly and a mischievous spark hit his eyes. “Wouldn’t it be fun to switch rooms tonight? Imagine if he came to steal you and found me instead.”

Brienne smiled to herself and turned back to look into Jaime’s eyes. “You’ll be the one in for a surprise when he crawls in under the furs naked. Certainly, caught me off guard the first time.” Jaime’s eyes widened in horror and he stopped walking. Brienne couldn’t stop the laughter that spilled from her lips again. Jaime’s face softened at her laughter. “Your face. You really believed me.”

“That wasn’t funny. Surely you would feel bad if it did happen and he tried to have his way with me. I only have the one hand to fight him off.” Jaime raised his false hand and a smile tugged at his lips. Brienne chuckled and began to remove her hand from his arm. Turning to continue walking towards their rooms, Brienne was caught off guard when Jaime’s hand grabbed hers before it could fall to her side. Jaime locked his fingers with hers and began walking forward again.

Brienne felt her heart race and every instinct told her to retract her hand, but Jaime had a firm grip and was now tugging her forward. _What is he doing!?_

“Come one. I’m not _that_ pathetic. I know the way. It’s just down this cold corridor which connects to the next cold corridor which then brings you to several colder corridors and ultimately our freezing rooms.” Jaime flashed a cheeky smile and pulled Brienne along.

Jaime kept prattling on the entire walk in a way that reminded Brienne of their journey through the Riverlands. The only difference was his fingers interlocked with hers. The warmth from Jaime’s hand mixed with her own and it felt like their palms were on fire. Brienne was afraid to speak and break whatever spell he was under. Clearly, he did not realize it was _her_ hand that he was holding. _Surely, he is missing Cersei and being amongst friends and bannermen. He is merely looking for someone to bond with in a place where most hate him._

As they reached the room, Jaime stopped his yammering and looked around as if finally at a loss for words. “Well thank you from saving me from a wretched dinner with your betrothed.” Jaime cast a mocking smile at Brienne and she rolled her eyes.

Suddenly Jaime looked a bit nervous and released Brienne’s hand before meeting her eyes again. “Do you want to marry him? I don’t mean to mock the man if…”

“Oh piss off!” Brienne punched Jaime’s right shoulder lightly and spat the words at him. Jaime’s smile widened and he grabbed her hand, raising it to his lips. “Good night _Lady_ Brienne.” Jaime placed a kiss to her knuckles and Brienne felt as though someone set off wildfire in her stomach.

Jaime bowed slightly before turning to walk to his door. “Do sound the battle horn if the wildling tries to steal you away. I think Pod and I can take him.”

Brienne smiled tightly. “Don’t do too good of a job fighting him off or he’ll mean to make you his spearwife next.” Jaime barked a laugh. “Was that a jape from Brienne of Tarth!? Now I’ve seen it all. Dead men walking, dragons in the sky, and Brienne of Tarth making a jape.”

With a roll of her eyes, Brienne marched into her room. Once the door closed firmly behind her, she couldn’t help the smile that spread over her face. Maybe the day wasn’t a complete loss.


	5. Jaime III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime send off an important letter and Daenerys' forces prepare to leave

Jaime entered his room and took a steadying breath willing his heart to slow its rapid beating. His left hand was still tingling from its earlier embrace of Brienne’s. The sobering thought of Brienne marrying Tormund, or anyone other than him for that matter, was enough to quell the fluttering in his stomach he felt oft late whenever spending time alone with Brienne.

Jaime knew he didn’t deserve Brienne, but he would be damned if he didn’t at least try when the likes of that bloody wildling were openly courting her. Jaime huffed a laugh. _Even Tormund fucking Giantsbane knows she deserves proper courting. Damn Jon Snow._ Thinking back on his life, Jaime mused at how little the thought of marriage had crossed his mind. Of course, he had wanted to marry Cersei, but that was before he realized the falsehood that was their love. He also knew that marriage to his own sister was never truly an option. Brienne was the only woman he had ever envisioned marriage with. _When had I come to desire her in such a way? Maybe some part of me always knew even if my warped perception of love wouldn’t allow me to see it._

Jaime knew what he had to do and he quickly grabbed his cloak. Making his way to the rookery, Jaime considered the best approach. While he held little desire to return to Casterly Rock and claim his birthright as Warden of the West and Lord of the Rock, he knew that Tarth and duty were important to Brienne. If there was any good to come out of Tyrion’s damned drinking game, it was learning more about Brienne’s thoughts on returning home. She spoke of her father and Tarth with longing. Jaime knew that she was his only living heir, but he didn’t know whether she would ever want to return given her loyalty to Sansa. _Does she want to marry? Does she want to have children?_ His mind drifted to the image of Tarth when he had sailed by it on the way to Dorne. _It is certainly a more welcome climate than this wretched place._

Rounding the corner, Jaime heard the unmistakable voice of his brother behind him. “Jaime! There you are!” Jaime turned to see Tyrion walking briskly to catch up with him. _Seven hells. Now what?_

Jaime sighed and looked towards his intended direction before returning his gaze to Tyrion. “Here I am indeed. I’m not helping you in preparations for the war against Cersei if you’ve come to ask me again.” Tyrion scoffed at the words. “Can’t I just spend time with my big brother? I haven’t seen you since the feast. You’re more elusive than Brienne who I did _try_ to apologize to by the way. For someone so easy to pick out in a crowd, she certainly knows how to make herself scarce.”

Jaime assessed his brother before responding. He looked tired and wary. Surely an effect of spending so much time around Aerys’ daughter. “Well I was just going somewhere, but…” Jaime’s voice trailed off and he felt anxious at the delay to his plans.

“Then I’ll join you. Where are we going?” Tyrion raised his brows and gestured as if to inquire which direction they were heading in. _His company for this task is the last thing I need._ As if sensing Jaime’s hesitance, Tyrion smiled broadly. “Were you headed to see your favorite knight? Well for that I certainly don’t want to join you.”

“No! I was just going to do something alone.” Jaime’s voice again trailed off as he considered whether to tell Tyrion of his intentions.

“Well I certainly don’t want to help you with _that_.” Jaime rolled his eyes at Tyrion’s words. “You’re a dog! No I’m not going to do _that_. I… need to send a raven.”

Tyrion’s brows rose in curiosity. “Oh! Well let me help you then. Your handwriting is atrocious and I doubt anyone receiving a missive from you will know what you’re blathering on about. Shall we?” Tyrion extended his hand towards the direction of the rookery and Jaime begrudgingly began walking.

“I prefer to write the letter myself, but you can come along. It might take me into all hours of the night so be prepared for boredom.”

“And where are we sending this mysterious letter that I am not allowed to help with?” Tyrion’s tone was teasing as he continued looked at Jaime. “Mayhap you mean to write to our sweet sister and let her know your fondness for the North and intent to stay _indefinitely_.”

 _Well I see he has been talking to his former wife._ “So you’ve been speaking with Sansa then.” Jaime looked towards the ceiling as they walked down the corridor to the battlements leading to the rookery. Tyrion chuckled. “In a rather public setting, yes. It was announced at this afternoon’s war council that you would be staying here as a guest. You can imagine my surprise at that. And here I thought my own brother would share such considerations with me first. Enlighten me, what is your reason for staying?” Tyrion cast a knowing glance at Jaime.

“So many reasons really. To start, the Northerners love me. I should imagine that much is evident. The climate simply can’t be beat. Oh and there is that fun knowledge of knowing that I’m comfortably camped out just a couple floors above the honorable Ned Stark’s rotting corpse.”

The pair stepped out into inhospitable cold and made their way across the battlement. The wind was strong that night and cut right through Jaime. “See. Wonderful weather. How could I resist? I imagine I won’t have much use for my balls these days anyway.”

Tyrion shrunk in on himself and pulled his cloak tighter. “Perhaps you’ll still get your chance to die at Winterfell after all.” As the pair picked up their pace and entered the door on the other end of the battlements leading to the rookery, Tyrion slowed his pace and looked up at Jaime. “Seriously Jaime. What is going on? I have my suspicions, but I would rather hear it straight from you.”

Opening the door to the rookery, Jaime made his way inside with Tyrion right on his heels. Taking a seat at the table and reaching for some parchment, Jaime shrugged and let out a sigh. “Where else would I go? I never expected to survive the war with the dead. Now that I have, I have no desire to return to King’s Landing. I have no desire to return to the Rock. I will not aid Daenerys nor will I aid Cersei. The only people left in this world who don’t mean to see my head on a spike or in the belly of a dragon are in this bloody shithole of a castle.”

Tyrion stared at Jaime and this time his eyes held no mirth. “Who are you writing to Jaime?”

Jaime looked out the window and debated telling Tyrion the truth. _I suppose if I can’t admit this to Tyrion, I’m a lost cause._ Jaime could feel his ears flame before the words came out.

“I’m writing to Lord Tarth.” Tyrion smile widely at Jaime’s words. Clapping his brother on the back, Tyrion waited for Jaime to look at him before speaking. “You love her truly?”

Jaime nodded in acknowledgement. “Won’t do me much good. I doubt Lord Tarth wants the Kingslayer courting his daughter. I doubt Brienne wants an honorless, one-handed, sister-fucking oathbreaker either. I don’t know why I’m bothering.”

Tyrion chuckled and looked away. “Come now brother. I’m sure Brienne can look beyond the one hand so long as its skilled enough.” Jaime cast an annoyed glare at his little brother which only elicited a louder laugh from the younger man. “In all seriousness brother, there is honor in you. You’ve made some mistakes, yes, but on the whole you are a good man. You’ve done some particularly good things for Brienne in fact. Saved her from rape was it? Knighted her! I can only imagine what the meant to her. Kept your oath to her and Lady Catelyn. Heard her words at the Dragon Pit and… _Fucked Loyalty_. I think you are too hard on yourself. She is difficult to read I admit, but it is evident that she cares for you deeply. I don’t know her well although I suspect she is hardly the type to publicly stand up for a man and defend him before a queen who wants nothing more than to take his head. If anything, she seems to avoid being the center of attention like it is her sole mission.” 

_Gods I hope Tyrion is correct. I’m not certain I could take Brienne’s rejection._ “What if she only cares for me as a friend though?” Tyrion sighed at Jaime’s words. “Then be her friend Jaime. I think you both could use a friend. If you love her as you say you do, perhaps that could be enough. I’ll leave you to it though. Unless…”

“No. I prefer to write this alone.” Jaime pulled the parchment closer and stared at the empty paper.

Tyrion stood to leave and turned back towards Jaime. “I leave in two days with Daenerys’ forces. I would enjoy spending some time with you to discuss something other than difficult women and your lady knight. My door is open anytime and you know I have plenty of wine!” Jaime smiled and nodded at his brother. “I’ll come by. Likely not tonight. I imagine this may take some time.” Jaime raised his false hand to emphasize the point of not having the benefit of his dominant hand.

What seemed like hours later, Jaime stared down at his completed letter. The table was scattered with crumpled up drafts. He wanted to try and make a good impression and took his time forming the letters, fearful of coming off as an illiterate man who was not educated in the art of script.

_Lord Tarth,_

_My name is Jaime Lannister and I have known your daughter for some years now. She recently led her own flank in the battle against the dead and she is a knight now. I imagine you would be very proud of her accomplishments as many of us are. I am writing to request your permission for her hand. Of course if she has no interest in marrying me, I will leave her alone, but I know it would mean a lot to her if I had your blessing. I love her very much and want to see her happy._

_I know you have likely heard of my unsavory reputation. I admit that some of the rumors are true, but I promise you that I have done nothing to dishonor your daughter. Brienne makes me want to be a better man and I have tried to keep my oaths to her. I know Tarth is very important to Brienne and I would happily give up the Rock for her. She certainly doesn’t need much taking care of, but I would do anything in my power for her. I hope you will consider my request._

_Jaime Lannister_

Jaime sent off the raven and made his way back to his room. By his calculation, the raven should reach Tarth in three days’ time. Hopefully he would hear back from Brienne’s father within the week.

The next day, Daenerys called a meeting to share with the more senior commanders and nobles the plans made by the war council. Jaime sat across from Brienne at the long table and tried to focus, but he was distracted by thoughts of Selwyn’s potential response. As final plans were shared by Tyrion, Daenerys rose from her seat.

“I have one final announcement. Tormund has agreed to march his men south with us rather than return home north of the wall. In exchange for his support, I have granted him permission to marry Lady Brienne.”

 _What!?_ Jaime felt his world crumble around him as his darted between Brienne, Tormund, Tyrion, and Sansa. Everyone but Tormund appeared shocked. It was Brienne who broke the silence.

“I’m sorry your Grace. I don’t understand. I have not agreed to marry Tormund.” Daenerys turned her attention to Brienne. “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe your agreement is necessary. As I understand from Varys, Westeros custom dictates that the betrothal of a noblewoman requires either the crown’s blessing or the agreement between lords. As Queen, I am approving Tormund’s request.”

“But your Grace, I have an understanding with my father…”

“As I said Lady Brienne, that is unnecessary.” Daenerys tone was clipped and irritation flashed in the young queen’s eyes.

“I thought you wished to break the wheel; not push it forward harder.” Sansa’s tone dripped with aggression as the two women locked eyes.

“Again, I don’t need anyone’s permission to grant Tormund’s request. We need his army and his request is quite minor. Besides, Varys tells me that Lady Brienne has no other offers and is the only heir to her house. Not only do I approve of this match, but I’m certain her father would be more than satisfied. What is her happiness in exchange for the future of Westeros? We all must make sacrificed in this war.”

Jaime felt like a caged animal. His heartrate accelerated and he felt sick at the exchange of words. Standing up abruptly, he snapped at the young queen. “Well she can’t marry him.”

Daenerys’ eyes blazed with furry as she caught sight of the Kingslayer. “Excuse me?”

Jaime’s mind raced and he spoke the words before he could consider the repercussions. “She can’t marry Tormund, because she already married me.”


	6. Sansa II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa helps Jaime pull off his lie

_What is he doing!?_ Sansa glared at Jaime, but he was too busy frantically looking between Daenerys and Brienne. Brienne looked as shocked as Sansa felt, but not quite as shocked as Tormund who stood from his seat at the words.

“What!? I betrothed you lady knight!” Tormund barked from down the table and Daenerys’ eyes darted between the three.

“You did not! You made a fool of yourself asking for her hand, but she never agreed!” Jaime spat the words at the wildling and Daenerys slammed her hand on the table. “Enough! I did not bless any marriage between you and Brienne. When were you wed?”

Jaime looked to Brienne who had buried her head in her hands. “Last night.” Jaime looked back at Daenerys before uttering the words. Sansa watched as Tyrion groaned and hung his head in frustration.

“Last night. You wed Brienne last night? There is not even a septon in Winterfell!” Daenerys was incredulous and looked to Varys who nodded in confirmation of her words; his brows raised as though Jaime’s proclamation was the stupidest thing he had ever heard.

 _Fuck it. Why not?_ “That is because they wed before the Old Gods. I was there to witness. The ways of the north are different than the south.” Jaime shot Sansa an appreciative glance and Sansa kept her composure as she locked eyes defiantly with Daenerys.

Daenerys looked to Varys again who, although slightly perplexed, nodded in affirmation of Sansa’s words. Daenerys turned back to Brienne; her rage barely contained. “Brienne, is this true? Did you wed the Kingslayer?”

Brienne raised her head slowly and looked to Jaime before turning her attention to Daenerys. _By the Seven, Brienne for once in your honorable life just lie!_ Brienne’s mouth moved to speak, but words did not form. Brienne’s eyes shifted slightly to Sansa. _Please Brienne. Go with it._ Sansa hoped her eyes conveyed her thoughts and Sansa watched as Jaime looked panic-stricken at the woman across the table from him. No doubt he knew Brienne’s seeming inability to lie as well.

Brienne sucked in a breath and spoke confidently. “His name is Jaime, your Grace. He _took_ my hand last night.” A quick look between Jaime and Brienne was exchanged and Sansa could swear they both were stifling a laugh.

“How could you do this to me!? This fucker comes north and just takes you from me like that!” Tormund looked defeated and slumped back into his chair. “Little crow! Did you know this?” Jon looked equally stunned by the turn of events and could only shrug his shoulders in response.

From beside Daenerys, Sansa watched as Tyrion raised his head to cast a look at Jaime. “Your Grace, I can confirm that I did accompany my brother to the rookery last night. He sent a missive to Lord Tarth.” _Truly? Are they actually wed? Surely not based on Brienne’s reaction and Jaime’s panic. Did the Kingslayer propose to her?_

Daenerys glared at Tyrion. “You only thought to tell me this now!?”

Tyrion bowed his head to Daenerys. “Your Grace, I was not a witness to the wedding nor did I know the contents of what he wrote to Lord Tarth. I can merely confirm that he did in fact write to Lord Tarth. Hear this now, it makes sense. What else would he write the man about? Had I known I would have celebrated the match. I think it is a fine one.”

Daenerys leaned towards Tyrion with gritted teeth and spoke in hushed tones that Sansa could only hear given her proximity to the woman. “That match just cost me the wildling forces.”

Daenerys glared at Sansa after speaking to Tyrion. “You had no right to authorize this.”

Sansa scoffed. “You would do best to get to know the customs of the very lands you seek to rule. In the North, no approvals are necessary other than that of the two who wish to wed. I was only a circumstantial witness; hardly necessary, but present nonetheless. I agree with Lord Tyrion. They make a fine match. You only stand to gain from their union. I imagine they will produce the fiercest of knights to protect the realm. Granted I will need a lot of extra fabric to knit clothing for what I imagine will be the tallest of children.” Sansa cast a teasing look at the pair down the table. Brienne blushed heavily and stared at her feet. Jaime looked rather triumphant as he smirked at Daenerys.

With an irritated huff, Daenerys turned back to Tormund. “Will you still march south with us?”

Tormund shrugged his shoulders. “I won’t ask my people to march south and support any of ya kneelers, but for Jon… aye. I’ll go south. Jon can ask the rest himself.”

Daenerys glared at Jaime and Brienne. “Very well. Lord and Lady Lannister. You will dine with me this evening. A _celebration_ if you will. Feel free to bring along your brother and _witness_.” Sansa did not like the spark in Daenerys’ eyes as she stared down the two knights. _This can’t be good._

As the meeting closed, Sansa marched up to Jaime and Brienne. “My solar. Now.” Sansa was not surprised to find Tyrion striding after them as they made their way towards Sansa’s solar. Upon entering the room, Sansa slammed the door and rounded on Jaime.

“By the Gods what have you done!? Are you trying to get us all killed!?” Jaime had the good graces to look abashed. “I’m sorry. I panicked.”

Brienne scoffed. “You panicked!? I was the one being forced to wed Tormund. I appreciate the intention, but by the Gods Jaime you’ve gotten us all into a mess. And now she wants to dine with us! That can’t be good.”

Sansa took a deep breath and tried to settle the atmosphere in the room. “Between the four of us we can keep this lie up, but we need to agree on the circumstances first. I will also need to explain the wedding process of the Old Gods since you both supposedly participated in it last night.” Sansa motioned for all of them to sit by the fire. As they walked across the room, Sansa listened intently to the hushed conversation between Jaime and Brienne behind her back.

“I’m sorry. I only meant to help.”

“I didn’t ask for your help. Now the whole of Daenerys’ forces and the north think we’re wed.”

Sansa turned in time to see Jaime’s face fall as Brienne moved to sit next to her. _Did I misjudge? Does Brienne not feel the same way for him?_ Looking to Tyrion, Sansa could see the worry in the younger man’s eyes as he glanced towards Jaime.

“So, tell me, when exactly did I witness this wedding?” Sansa captured the group’s attention and they began mapping out the timeline of their lie. They would claim that upon ushering Brienne out of the great hall and away from Tormund’s unwanted advances, Jaime proposed to Brienne. She agreed and they went out the side exit of the castle that leads to the entrance of the Godswood. There they encountered Sansa during her evening prayers and the pair exchanged vows in front of the old gods with Sansa to guide them on the process as they are both of the south. Jaime then departed for the rookery to write Lord Tarth and Tyrion encountered him along the way.

Something told Sansa that the bit about the rookery was not a lie, but she wondered what had truly transpired. As everyone moved to leave, Sansa requested that Jaime remain behind. Brienne and Tyrion left the room as Sansa motioned for Jaime to sit back down.

Sansa stared at Jaime as silence filled the space. Jaime began to shift uncomfortably under her gaze. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

Jaime looked around the room as though the walls held the answer. “In my defense, the lie was successful in stopping an unwanted marriage. I admit it was not the wisest thing to do, but…”

“Not the wisest thing? Do you realize that you have put Brienne’s life in danger? Hells even my life in danger? If Daenerys finds out that you lied and cost her Tormund’s forces, and that Brienne lied on your behalf, Daenerys will have you both executed. Loathe as I am to concede the point, it is not uncommon for sovereigns to arrange a marriage. How do you suppose I ended up married to your brother!? What were you thinking?”

Jaime looked taken aback by her words and took a moment to consider them. “I wasn’t thinking. I just… I don’t know. I couldn’t sit back and watch that happen to Brienne.”

Sansa huffed in irritation. “Do you ever consider having a plan before you act? You can’t go around treating every situation involving Brienne as though it’s a bear pit! You did more harm than good in that meeting.”

Jaime looked affronted and spat back. “More harm than good? That dragon queen was quite eager to sell Brienne off to the wildling for her own selfish gain! Brienne wants nothing to do with the man. She said so herself. Daenerys was going to sacrifice Brienne’s happiness for a few hundred wildlings to march south with her. She has two dragons! Cersei stands no chance regardless of how many foot soldiers Daenerys brings.”

“You don’t think I realize Brienne wants nothing to do with Tormund? I’ve watched her fend him off for years now. She managed to do a more than acceptable job without you running interference at every interaction between them. I never would have let Daenerys marry Brienne off against her wishes. I would have come up with a plan to prevent it. Now I have to worry about the truth coming out. Now you leave Brienne in an impossible situation!”

Jaime’s face was red with irritation. “How is she in an impossible situation?”

Sansa groaned in frustration and looked to the ceiling; rubbing the bridge of her nose in absolute consternation with the man before her. “You truly have no idea the impact this has on her life, do you?” Sansa looked back to Jaime who only shrugged. “As far as Westeros is concerned, she is now married based on our lie. What if she has no desire to be married to _you_. How is she to get out of that honorably? A highborn lady, everyone will assume she is no longer a maiden as she is your wife in the sight of gods and men. What if she wants to marry for love? What if she wants to have children? What if she doesn’t feel she can accomplish those things with you? Is she to spend her life in a sham marriage?”

Jaime was stunned at Sansa’s words and his brows furrowed as he searched for an answer. “Well… we could be honest. Say we didn’t consummate it. That is how you got out of the marriage to Tyrion, is it not?”

Sansa chuckled sarcastically. “Your brother is twice my age and everyone knew it was a forced match. As I was a ‘prisoner’, that along was grounds for annulment. It was easy enough for everyone to believe the truth that I did not lay with him. Brienne on the other hand is a woman of appropriate age to be wed to you and based on our lie, she willingly agreed to this union. For as long as I have known her, men have mocked her appearance. Made her feel less than. So, your suggestion is to tell everyone that ‘Yes, we wed out of mutual desire. But no, I won’t lay with her.’ Do you know that she has had three broken betrothals? She will become nothing more than a jape.”

Jaime frowned and shook his head. Sansa laughed mockingly. “No of course you don’t know that. It doesn’t seem to me that you actually talk to her just as I suspect that you still haven’t admitted your feelings for her, have you?” Jaime again shook his head in denial.

“Perfect. So you’ll lie and tell everyone you haven’t consummated the marriage for Gods only know what reason. She will be made to feel as though she is in a sham marriage with someone who finds her undesirable as you are merely a ‘friend’ intending to save her from Tormund. How do you expect her to feel about that?”

Jaime looked at the floor like a child scolded by his septa. With a shrug of the shoulders Jaime looked back to Sansa. “I don’t know. I already admitted that I didn’t think this through. I am _trying_. I just… I can’t yet tell _her_. I don’t know how to do this.” Jaime rung his hands in frustration and ran his flesh hand through his hair.

Sansa snorted. “You don’t know how to tell her? Maybe start by talking to her about something other than swords and Tormund. Why is this so difficult? Tell her the reason you lost your hand for her. The reason you jumped into a beat pit for her. The reason you armed her and armored her. The reason you let her cross siege lines to treat with my great uncle. The reason you rode north in defiance of Cersei. The reason you asked to serve under her. The reason you stayed at Winterfell.”

Jaime shook his head in frustration. “It’s not that simple!”

“Why not?”

“Because it doesn’t matter that I did any of that for her. I am known for killing my king and sleeping with my sister. I’ve done horrible things to your family, my own family, and other families all for Cersei. Brienne deserves better than me and I don’t want to dishonor her due to my selfish desire to be with her.”

Sansa wanted to shake the man. “I don’t think you get to decide what Brienne deserves. Yes, she might reject you, but she also might not. That is her decision. And rather than be demoralized at the prospect of her accepting you because you feel that you’re not worthy of her, why not take it as an opportunity to better yourself? Prove to her every day that you are worthy of her.”

Jaime shrugged and looked out the window. Sansa studied him before asking her next question. “Tyrion’s claim. Did he make that up or did you visit the rookery?”

Jaime sighed and looked back at her. “I did go to the rookery. He saw me headed there last night and joined me.”

“Did you write to Lord Tarth or someone else?”

“I wrote to Lord Tarth.”

“Why?”

Jaime cast an unimpressed glance at her as though it was the most idiotic question he had ever heard. “I asked for permission to marry Brienne if she will have me.”

Sansa laughed and quickly moved to cover her mouth with her hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh. You wrote her father to ask his permission? Do you truly think Brienne of all people cares? She broke off a betrothal that her father arranged because she refused the man he selected. She left home to go fight for Renly; leaving her father without his only living heir. Do you suppose he _wanted_ all that?”

“That’s not it. I want to make sure that by marrying me, her father won’t disinherit her or prevent her from returning home. I highly doubt any father wants the Kingslayer as his goodson and I don’t want Brienne to suffer for it.”

 _Well he has a point I suppose_. “Very well. We will see what he says. In the meantime, you should at least be honest with her. She deserves the truth. Leave the decision to her if she would accept the consequences of being wed to you if that is what she wants to do.”

Sansa took pause and again assessed the man before her. “Ser Jaime. May I ask you something?”

“Have you not already?” Jaime cast a mock smile at her.

“Why did you kill Aerys?”

Jaime flinched at the question and looked away. “I’m sure you’ve heard the story from your father. I imagine that should be sufficient.”

“I want to hear it from you.”

Jaime exhaled and slouched in his chair. “I prefer not to think on it.”

“And I prefer to know the kind of man staying in my home. The man who just claimed to be wed to my sworn sword. A woman mind you that I consider to be family.”

Sansa’s tone brokered no argument and Jaime crossed his arms over his chest. With a heavy sigh, Jaime looked back towards the window as though it replayed the scene before him. “Aerys was… unwell. Every year his madness grew. He had a penchant for burning men for pleasure. I’m sure you’ve heard what he did to your kin.” Sansa nodded at his words and Jaime continued. “As his madness grew, so did his paranoia. He thought enemies lurked around every corner. Aerys ordered his pyromancers to work around the clock making wildfire. When Robert won the Battle of the Trident, my father realigned himself just in time. Typical really. I was one of the few Kingsguard left behind in King’s Landing. When my father’s forces were at the gates, the battle all but won, I begged Aerys to surrender. Instead he ordered the pyromancers to light the caches of wildfire. To burn them all. To burn King’s Landing to the ground; innocents and soldiers alike. So I killed the pyromancers and Aerys. Your father walked in, took one look at the scene, and declared me Kingslayer. Man without honor. Oathbreaker.”

Sansa was floored by his confession. “Why haven’t you told anyone?”

Jaime laughed. “Who would believe me? Only Brienne knows the truth. Well… now you too I suppose.”

_Gods it all makes sense. Of course, Brienne, the most honorable person I know, would stand before a queen and defend the very man who killed said queen’s father if she knew this truth._

“You need to tell her. If you don’t, I will.” Jaime rubbed his forehead at Sansa’s declaration. “I will. I just… need some more time.”

“Soon! And by the Gods get some more clothing. Shave and do something with that mop on your head. Even Tormund looks better kempt than you oft late.”

Jaime laughed quietly. “Brienne has seen me worse off than this. Your brother didn’t exactly offer me the privilege of a bath and chambermaid while I was chained to a post for a year.” 

“Ugh. Go clean up. You have a dinner with your _wife_ to prepare for. I’ll send someone to your room with fresh clothing and a razor. And do try to be a little less you at this dinner. I can only do so much to cover the destruction left by that mouth of yours.”


	7. Jaime IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner time with Daenerys and it certainly does not go well.

True to her word, Sansa sent a chambermaid to Jaime’s room with fresh clothing and everything necessary for a clean shave and a haircut. _I don’t think I look that bad. Brienne has seen me covered in my own shit and fleas in my hair and beard._ The maid placed the clean clothing on the bed and put the razor, cloth, and bowl of water on the table. “I imagine you’ll need assistance m’lord? Not a natural left-hand I suppose?”

Jaime nodded and the woman pulled out a chair and gestured for him to sit. In no time at all, Jaime looked more like the man at the Dragon Pit than the man who arrived at Winterfell and spent his days shadowing Brienne. Thanking the maid for her assistance, Jaime shut the door behind her and looked down at the clothing. Taking appraisal of the jerkin, Jaime smirked slightly at the sight of Lannister crimson. _And here I thought the only fabric in the North was black or brown._

Jaime dressed as quickly as he could with one hand and made his way next door to Brienne’s room. He felt his nerves rise at the thought of seeing her alone since the meeting that afternoon. Raising his hand to knock, Jaime hesitated for a moment and swallowed the lump in his throat. Sansa’s words from earlier echoed in his head. Knocking lightly on the door, Jaime fidgeted while waiting for Brienne to answer.

As the door opened, Jaime forced a smile and looked into her sapphire pools. “Hello wife!” Brienne rolled her eyes and stepped aside to let him in.

Entering the room, Jaime observed how tidy everything was and how little Brienne had. Turning towards Brienne, Jaime threw his arms out in an exaggerated display. “How do I look? Less homeless? Sansa felt my appearance fell somewhere between chained to a post for a year and Tormund. Personally, I thought I was somewhere between Tormund and Tyrion; the latter of whom seems to have grown an animal on his face.”

Brienne looked unimpressed and Jaime’s hopes fell slightly. Giving a nervous chuckle, Jaime looked away. “Well at least there were no fleas taking residence in my hair this time. The Riverlands were less accommodating on that front.”

Brienne sat down and poured herself a cup of water. “I wiped your ass when you were delirious from fever. I hardly care for your physical state.” _See Sansa. Brienne has no shits to give._ “You look nice though.”

Jaime felt his spirits lift at her words and he moved to sit next to her. “I truly am sorry about all of this. I only meant to help. It’s just that…”

Brienne cut him off with a wave of her hand. “Ser Jaime, I appreciate the intent. It is the execution that could use some work. It’s over now. We’ll just need to endure this lie.” Jaime watched as Brienne took another sip of her water and looked absently out the window.

“Do you prefer that? To merely _endure_ this?” Jaime looked down at his good hand as he played with the hem of his jerkin.

Brienne looked incredulous at his words. “What else are we to do? Would you like to add to the lie? A fake babe perhaps?” _Gods must she always misunderstand me_.

“No of course not. I just meant… I don’t know. I will do whatever makes you happy. Do you prefer to play this a certain way? I have no pride. You can tell people you don’t wish to lay with me with the war going on. Then that gives you an out after all of this.”

Brienne stared at him for a long moment. “I suppose it would be better for both of us. Then you wouldn’t suffer the shame of having people think you went from someone like Cersei to me.”

“That’s not what I meant. I just…” Before Jaime could finish, a knock came at the door and Brienne moved to answer it. Jaime huffed in irritation as the door opened and Tyrion came into view.

“Ah goodsister. How are you this fine evening?” Tyrion gave a sly smile and looked to Jaime who looked imploringly at his brother to leave. Either Tyrion did not understand Jaime’s expression, or he didn’t care.

“We shouldn’t keep the queen waiting. Shall we collect Sansa?” Tyrion looked between the pair for response and Jaime gritted his teeth. “Can’t you collect her? Brienne and I were speaking.”

Brienne shrugged. “It’s alright. We should get going.” Brienne gave a small smile at Jaime that did not reach her eyes. _Gods she looks miserable. Maybe she would have been better off with Tormund_.

Standing from his chair, Jaime approached Brienne and offered his arm as he had the night prior. Brienne looked hesitant and looked toward Tyrion who thankfully was ignoring them now. “You don’t need to do that.”

Jaime scrambled for a reply that would set her at ease. Maybe if he could physically express his love for her, the words would come easier. “We should play the part, shouldn’t we? Plus, I quite enjoy you dragging me about.” Jaime again extended his arm and Brienne took it. A look of discomfort washed over her face. Walking down the hall, Jaime kept his eyes fixed on Brienne. As she would glance at him, he smiled wider in what he hoped came off as sincere as he felt.

As they arrived at Sansa’s door, Brienne let go of Jaime’s arm and took a slight step away. Not liking the new distance between them, Jaime moved a bit closer and bumped her arm slightly. “What are you doing?” Brienne asked in hushed tones. Jaime smiled again and shrugged. “I want to stand with my wife.” Brienne muttered something under her breath that Jaime couldn’t quite make out when the sound of Sansa’s door opening captured their attention.

Sansa stepped into the hallway and grabbed Tyrion’s arm. “Lets get this over with.” Casting a glance over her shoulder at Jaime, she smiled with pride. “Good. The maid fixed you. Hopefully your wife can help with the maintenance now.”

Brienne’s eyes widened at the remark and Jaime snorted. Brienne and Jaime fell into rhythm behind Sansa and Tyrion. When Brienne made no move to take his arm, Jaime slipped his left arm around her waist, his hand coming to rest on her hip. Jaime felt Brienne tense under his touch and he wondered if she wasn’t accustomed to touch or if he repulsed her.

“Do you not want me to touch you?” Jaime whispered into Brienne’s ear. Brienne met his gaze and something flashed in her eyes that Jaime couldn’t place. “You don’t have to do all of this. I know you are only trying to help, but you don’t need to put on a show.”

Jaime kept his eyes locked on her. “Fine, I’m not and I won’t. But are you comfortable with _me_ touching you?” Brienne’s brows furrowed in confusion at his question. “You don’t bother me Jaime.” _Jaime. Just Jaime._ Jaime beamed at her and pulled her against him tighter as they walked.

Arriving at Daenerys’ room, Tyrion knocked and turned to look back at Jaime and Brienne. Jaime watched as Tyrion’s lips twitched at the sight of Jaime’s arm around Brienne. Jaime gave Tyrion nothing for a reaction and waited for the door to open. They didn’t need to wait long for Missandei to open the door with a small smile spreading across her face. Tyrion spoke on behalf of the group. “Hello Missandei! You look wonderful as always. Is Queen Daenerys ready for us?”

The young woman smiled softly and waved them in. “She just sat down and the food is on the way up.”

Tyrion thanked her and the four walked towards the table. Daenerys was alone save for Grey Worm who stood at attention in the corner. Jaime leaned in and whispered into Brienne’s ear again. “Do you suppose he stands there like that all through the night?” Brienne snorted and that caught Daenerys attention. Jaime bit his lip to prevent the smile from spreading and he looked to Brienne who was doing the same.

Sipping her wine, Daenerys gestured for them to sit. Missandei poured them each a glass of dornish red and Jaime began to twitch his leg nervously under the table. “I neglected to congratulate you earlier at the _shocking_ news of your wedding.” Daenerys looked to Jaime and Brienne as she spoke. “Why the secret?”

Jaime glanced at Brienne seated to his left and smiled before turning back to Daenerys. “I don’t doubt you will win this war against my sister, but in the off-chance Cersei wins, I wouldn’t want to see her targeting Brienne.”

Daenerys’ eyes bore into his. “So, the rumors are true? You lay with your sister?”

Jaime squirmed in his seat. “In the past, yes. A rather lengthy mistake; regrettably Targaryen of me.” Brienne choked on her wine and Sansa glared at Jaime. _Oh. Was that one of those ‘be less you’ things Sansa meant?_

Daenerys look unimpressed at his remark as a mischievous smile tugged at Jaime’s lips.

“Forgive my brother you grace. He can be an idiot.” Tyrion glared at Jaime, but Jaime could hardly remove the smile from his lips. Daenerys gritted her teeth. “Yes, he certainly is.”

Daenerys face pulled into a calculating smile. “So, Ser Jaime. Your sister is quite beautiful.” Jaime fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat. “Hardly masks her inner ugliness.”

At his words, Daenerys’ face did not flinch. “Well at a minimum you can imagine why _this_ is such a shock to everyone.” Daenerys gestured to Brienne and Jaime turned to see the knight’s face redden and stare down at her hands. “She is rather _unconventional_. Quite the opposite from Cersei.”

 _Fucking cunt. If only she were a man._ Jaime flashed a dangerous smile. “You’re correct, she is nothing like Cersei. She is infinitely better. I suppose it is a _shock_ to everyone that I finally pulled my head out of my ass and wed someone far superior to me.” At his words, Daenerys’ eyes narrowed and she turned her attention to Brienne. “So, tell me Lady Brienne, why did you agree to marry a man whose own brother deems him an idiot?”

Brienne raised her chin defiantly at Daenerys. “He is not an idiot your grace. If Tyrion believes that, perhaps it is best you acquire a new hand. I understand they are meant to be intelligent and a sound judge of character.” Jaime felt his heart swell at Brienne’s statement, and he cast a mocking smile at Tyrion who in turn raised his cup at Brienne and smiled. “Apologies goodsister. I meant as little ill will as I’m certain Jaime did with his earlier comment about Targaryens.”

Daenerys cast a dangerous smile at Brienne. “You still didn’t answer my question. Why did you agree to marry him?”

Brienne looked down nervously and swallowed. Jaime held his breath in anticipation of her response. With a slight shrug, Brienne looked back to Daenerys. “He is a good man and honorable. He has saved me more times than I can count and he keeps his oaths.”

Daenerys barked a laugh. “Keeps his oaths? He broke a sacred oath when he killed my father.” Brienne steeled herself and looked directly into Daenerys’ eyes. “You know Ser Jaime as well as you knew your own father if you believe that. Your father was a madman. Some might even say that Ser Jaime saved Westeros from that madness.”

Jaime had never felt so in love and yet so afraid for anyone in his entire life. Looking back to Daenerys, he observed the rage in her eyes at Brienne’s words. “That is my father you speak of. He was king of Westeros and I his rightful heir.”

Brienne didn’t hesitate this time. “And I hope for all of our sakes you are a far better ruler than him.” At her words, the door to the chambers opened and the servants brought in the food. Jaime placed his left hand on Brienne’s knee and squeezed lightly, drawing her attention from Daenerys. He gave her an appreciative smile as the plates were set down in front of them. _Of course. Our gracious queen has selected a thick cut of meat. She means to enjoy me fail at eating._

Jaime met Daenerys’ eyes which shined with mirth. Without so much as a word, Brienne grabbed Jaime’s plate and began cutting the meat into bite sized chunks. Jaime watched as Brienne’s eyes challenged Daenerys. Sliding Jaime’s plate back to him, he felt his lips tug into a wide smile. “Thank you, _wife_. You take such good care of an old cripple.”

“You’re hardly a cripple Jaime. You killed more dead than most of the soldiers combined.” Brienne’s retort was immediate and brokered no argument.

As everyone began to eat, Daenerys turned her attention to Sansa. “So now that your sworn sword is married, I imagine she will be leaving your services?”

Sansa looked between Daenerys and Brienne. “Brienne is no prisoner here. She is free to do as she pleases, and she has more than fulfilled the oath to my mother. I am forever in her debt.” Sansa offered a genuine smile at Brienne who returned it in kind.

Daenerys smiled at the two women before speaking. “Perfect. I hear Brienne is quite the warrior. Grey Worm here has yet to best her in the training yard. He speaks quite highly of her skill and since she is free from her obligation to you, that makes this all the easier. She will be traveling south to join my forces in battle.”

Silverware clattered onto plates at Daenerys’ words and time seemed to stand still. Jaime felt his heart race as he looked at the faces of all gathered around the table.

“Your Grace, I have committed to remain behind and protect Lady Sansa. The war is hardly over and her protection is my priority.” Brienne’s tone betrayed her panic and Jaime looked to the dragon queen.

An uncaring smile spread across Daenerys’ face. “Well it’s a good thing we have such a formidable warrior in your husband here. He can guard Sansa just fine. Of course, you understand I could not risk him joining us in a war against his own kin. Against a woman he admits to having taken as a lover.”

“I won’t leave my wife. I will march with you.”

“I said no, Ser Jaime.” Daenerys’ eyes were sharp and unmoving. Jaime saw nothing but Aerys in them.

“Please. Don’t separate us. I’ll do whatever you want! Battle plans. Council. Anything. Hold me hostage for all I care. Just let Brienne stay, please. You have more than enough men to take King’s Landing.”

“I _had_ more than enough men. I sacrificed most of my army in the war with the dead. The war that your sister abandoned our common cause against and now she holds an advantage given she lost no bannerman and gained an army of formidable sellswords. Further, I _would_ have had more men, but your little marriage has thrown away my alliance with Tormund’s people. I need the best fighters I can get and Brienne happens to be one of those. You will stay as a _guest_ in Winterfell until the war ends.”

Turning her attention to Brienne, Daenerys spoke commandingly. “We leave on the morrow. Best enjoy what little time you have left with your husband.” Daenerys leaned back and pushed away her plate. “I’m full now. I think we’ve had enough of this dinner.” Daenerys gestured to the servants who promptly removed the plates of barely touched food. In obvious dismissal, the group stood from their chairs and moved towards the door.

“Oh and Ser Jaime.” All four halted as they neared the door. Jaime turned to look back at Daenerys who had nothing but rage in her violet eyes. “Should you try and do anything stupid such as march south after we leave, I will have your wife executed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brienne POV on all this madness is next. I already have the draft done and will post tomorrow morning hopefully.


	8. Brienne II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne reflects back on the day's events and reacts to the dinner with Daenerys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK I went a little crazy over the last 24 hours and now have six chapters written. I'm posting this chapter and the next (Jaime's POV) now. I might post another two tomorrow if I can get them edited.

Brienne felt as though the walls were closing in around her. The last time she felt this way, she was wearing a horrible, pink dress as a ‘guest’ of Roose Bolton. Brienne realized by Daenerys’ tone and the violent look in her eyes that she was living on borrowed time. In her heart, Brienne knew that she had no one to blame but herself.

Every instinct had told her not to move from her seat when Jaime stood trial before Jon, Daenerys, and Sansa in the great hall. It went against the very essence of who she was to make a scene in a political forum, but how could she not. She would never let them kill Jaime over egregious misunderstandings surrounding his role in Aerys’ death or the downfall of the Stark family. Further, he risked his life to keep his oath and fight for the living. Brienne would never regret the decision to defend him, even now as she understood the consequences.

Brienne turned to leave the room, but not before she caught the wildfire burning in Jaime’s eyes. She panicked slightly as she saw him stand straighter and start to take a predatory step towards Daenerys following the woman’s warning. Grabbing his arm, Jaime’s eyes snapped from Daenerys to Brienne and his face softened. _Please just walk away. Say nothing._ Brienne’s silent plea to Jaime seemed to be understood as he hung his head and marched out of the room.

As the door shut behind them, Jaime pounded the stone wall with his good fist. Tyrion moved to grab at Jaime’s arm and implored him to stop. “Jaime, please! You need to calm down.”

“Calm down!? Were you not in there!? She threatened Brienne! And why? Because I requested, that a married couple not be separated. She is madder than her father! This is your fault! You brought her here!” Jaime pointed a judgmental finger at Tyrion who took a step back as if slapped; a stunned look on his face.

Sansa huffed in irritation and gritted her teeth. “Can we not have this discussion right outside her door.”

Tyrion didn’t seem to hear her words as he stared at his brother. “Were it not for Queen Daenerys, we likely would not have survived the war with the dead which means you and _your wife_ would not be standing here now.”

As the three continued bickering, Brienne slowly began to back away. Muttering to seemingly no one, she excused herself. “I better pack. Goodnight.” Brienne felt in a daze and she turned to walk towards her room. _Should I write my father in case they’re my last words to him? I should find Pod and ask him to guard Sansa._

“Brienne!” She heard rapid footsteps approaching but found herself in a fog. Thoughts swirled in her mind and all she could think of was the task at hand. Getting ready to ride out to a war that she couldn’t possibly survive the aftermath of. _If Cersei wins, I’ll be executed. If Daenerys wins, I’ll be executed. There is of course the possibility of dying in the battle. Maybe dragonfire will engulf me. Maybe wildfire will consume me._

Turning her head absently, Jaime slowed as he reached her side. “Where are you going?” Brienne felt her brows furrow at his question. “King’s Landing.” Jaime huffed in exasperation. “No, I meant where are you going _now_.”

Brienne looked back down the hallway as she continued walking. “I need to pack.” Jaime reached out and grabbed her arm to halt her progress. “Brienne, please wait.” Irritation flooded Brienne as she looked into his eyes. _Why does he look panicked? I’m the one literally marching to my death._

Jaime spoke in urgent, hushed tones and placed his hand on her cheek. “Lets leave. I’ll take you to Essos. We can run. Forget Westeros and its mad queens. We can be hedge knights!” Brienne snorted at his words and turned to keep walking. “I will not run away. I will do the best I can in King’s Landing to do as you charged me. Protect the innocent.”

“ _You_ are innocent in all of this, yet I don’t see you trying to protect yourself! Please Brienne. I can’t lose you.” Jaime’s face was desperate and pleading.

“Look on the bright side Ser Jaime. We won’t need to worry about continuing our lie. You should go to the Rock after this is done and live in peace. Find someone worthy of you to marry. Be happy.” Brienne tried to offer Jaime a genuine smile, but truthfully, she just wanted to be alone. The day had been overwhelming and resurfaced old wounds. She felt emotionally exhausted and exposed from the dinner with Daenerys.

Before the doomed dinner, Brienne had chuckled to herself at the absurdity of the situation. _Three broken betrothals and years of mockery. Brienne the Beauty. I finally meet a man who genuinely wants to marry me. A man who happens to be the last person in the world I wish to marry. At the same time, there is Jaime; a man who would never marry me but declares it so, if only to rescue me, yet again, from a terrible fate. A man who is the only person in the whole of Westeros I would wish to marry._

Brienne had spent the afternoon reflecting on her things. She thought of her father. A man who she perpetually disappointed and had not seen in near a decade. Her father’s grief at the loss of his wife and three other children consumed him, leaving little affection to shower Brienne with. Instead she was raised by a horrid septa who despised her. The woman reminded her at every turn what a disappointment Brienne was and how no man could ever love her. For Brienne, there would be no knight in shining armor to save her. No love. A marriage with Brienne would need to be endured by any man desperate enough for Tarth. A man merely performing his duty to his own house. Of this, Brienne’s septa was very confident.

Brienne thought of Renly and what she thought was love, but only years later she came to understand it to be nothing more than the naïve crush of a young girl. Renly had been the only person who showed her kindness. To that point, Renly had been the only man willing to touch her without a jape being involved. Brienne did not understand love until Jaime. Only Jaime.

Jaime’s behavior that day did little to help the situation. Every soft look. Every touch. Every conversation. _Well isn’t this perfect. A fake marriage to the man I’m in love with. It’s a new form of torture the Gods have inflicted upon me. To make matters worse, Jaime thinks it best to ‘play the part’. It wasn’t enough to say we are married; he wants to act it out with little understanding for how it torments me so.’_

And now Jaime stood before her in the hallway of Winterfell acting as though it would hurt him to lose her. It was all too much and Brienne needed to get away. As Brienne moved to continue her path towards her room, the echo of Jaime’s footsteps fell in line with hers. His presence unrelenting and all-consuming.

“Worthy of _me_? I hate to think such an awful person should exist. I do suppose Cersei would qualify, but I would rather lose my remaining hand than spend another minute in her presence.”

Brienne exhaled loudly and rubbed her eyes as she walked purposefully towards her room. “Why are you following me Jaime? I’m tired. I need to pack. I need to find Pod and ask him to watch over Sansa. Maybe I should write my father.”

“Your father? What are you going to write him?” Brienne was taken aback by the slight panic in his tone and the way his eyes were boring into her.

“I don’t know. That I’m, for now, alive? That I’m headed south? Maybe that I’m in a fake marriage. He would no doubt find a great deal of amusement in that.” Brienne had to stifle a laugh at the thought of her father hearing of this fake marriage to Jaime Lannister of all people.

“No! Don’t tell him about the fake marriage. It will upset him. No father wants to hear that, trust me. If you write him, just say where you are going and that you are well. Maybe don’t note that you might be swallowed whole by a dragon.” Jaime attempting a chuckle, but it sounded strangled. _By the seven what is going on with him oft late._ Before Brienne could reply, Jaime spoke again.

“The only remotely agreeable thing Daenerys said during dinner is that we should spend what little time we have left together. I would like to spend time with you.” Jaime flashed Brienne a smile that only served to exhaust her more. “I really need to talk to you.”

“You _are_ talking to me. Please Ser Jaime, I just want to be alone.” _Being alone. It is all I know how to do well._

Their steps slowed as they reached Brienne’s room. Moving to place her hand on the doorknob, Jaime’s own hand quickly covered Brienne’s and halted her progress. “If you want to be alone, I will honor your wishes. I just need to tell you one thing. Please.”

Brienne closed her eyes and sucked in a deep, steadying breath. She could not meet his eyes without fear of breaking down. Brienne could feel Jaime staring at her; willing her to look at him, but she fixed her eyes on the wooden door before her.

“I stayed at Winterfell because…” Brienne heard Jaime pause as if searching for an answer. _He has no reason. He doesn’t think before he acts, he just does things. Like jumping into a bear pit or lying about a marriage to me._ Brienne turned to look at Jaime who was now an incredible shade of red and looking everywhere but at her. “because I…” _Because you are heartbroken at losing Cersei. Because you have nowhere left to go. I can’t hear this._

Brienne smiled sadly when he looked back at her. “Goodnight Ser Jaime. Thank you for trying to help me. You’re a good friend.” _Gods I hope he at least thinks me a friend. Not just a fellow knight._

Jaime’s face dropped at her words and he muttered the last under his breath. “Friend” Brienne pushed open the door of the room and closed it behind her; leaving Jaime standing in the hallway.


	9. Jaime V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime goes for a drink and realizes a lot of things that he must do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second chapter of a double posting today. As noted on the last chapter (Brienne POV), I went a little crazy over the last 24 hours and now have six chapters written. I'm posting this chapter and the prior now.

As the door to Brienne’s chambers closed in his face, Jaime felt his heart fall. _Friend_. _That’s the best I can hope for_. Walking back to his room, Jaime hesitated. Taking a deep breath and looking back towards Brienne’s door, Jaime quickly turned on heel and walked in the direction of Tyrion’s room.

“Brother. Come to blame me some more?” Tyrion glared at Jaime and walked away from the door to return to the table where he was actively packing his bags. Jaime noticed that much of Tyrion’s room was packed and what little remained were books from the Winterfell library. “How about that drink?” At Jaime’s words, Tyrion’s head snapped up in surprise. The younger Lannister studied Jaime’s face before responding. “I know an inn. More private and easier to discuss things.”

The two set off towards town and Tyrion directed them towards a small inn. Jaime was not surprised by his brother’s familiarity with the inn given its proximity to two brothels. Jaime stifled a laugh as memories of a previous trip to Winterfell, one in which Jaime had to retrieve Tyrion from a whorehouse, flooded his mind. Making their way inside, Jaime was pleased to see it deserted. Taking a table near the center of the room, Tyrion ordered some ale which he promptly bitched and moaned about upon tasting. “Ugh. The North has no appreciation for fine wine nor ale. It all tastes like horse piss.”

Jaime snorted. “It isn’t quite that bad. Trust me. I’ve experienced horse piss.” Tyrion’s face contorted in disgust. “What!? Do I even want to know?” Jaime cringed at the memory. “Locke.” His words abruptly ended that conversation as both brothers sighed.

“I still can’t believe you’ve truly abandoned Cersei. I never thought I would see the day. All it took was another woman. Clearly I could never convince you to see the light.” Tyrion mused into his ale as he took another sip.

“It didn’t take another woman. Cersei pushed me away quite well on her own.” Jaime took a moment to consider something before continuing. “Although, even if she hadn’t, I was never prepared for Brienne. I would have been lost to her either way. And I’ll have you know that I have not _always_ taken Cersei’s side over yours.” Jaimie cast an annoyed look at his younger brother as he concluded his statement.

Tyrion huffed, but conceded the point. “I suppose you’ve always come through when it counts which is usually when my life is on the line.” Looking back to his ale and speaking in more subdued tones, Tyrion continued. “I’m happy for you. Happy that you’re finally free of Cersei’s influence. Happy to you love a good woman. You’re a good man when you’re not with Cersei. A better man when you’re around Brienne.” Tyrion cast a sly grin at Jaime who donned a lovesick smile.

“Well that doesn’t matter very much. She merely wants to be my friend.” Jaime’s face fell and Tyrion’s heart ached for his brother. “Truly? She said that?” Tyrion looked to away and strained in confusion. “I could have sworn she felt the same for you. She is difficult to read, but there is something in her eyes when she looks at you. And the way she speaks about you! I’ve never seen anyone stand up to Daenerys the way she has for you; twice now!”

Jaime sighed. “That’s just Brienne. A true knight to the end, she will fight for anything she perceives to be worthy; even if her judgement is misplaced as it clearly is with me. And yes, she said that.” Jaime quickly recounted his last conversation with Brienne. As he concluded, he looked to Tyrion and observed a strange expression on his brother’s face.

“You fucking idiot. This is worse than the damned Gold road.” Tyrion exhaled in annoyance and Jaime felt his body tense with anger. “Piss off Tyrion!”

“No! You piss off. For someone so brave on the battlefield, you can be quite the coward in matters of the heart.” Tyrion’s words stunned Jaime and he felt his jaw slacken in shock. “You can’t even manage to tell Brienne how you feel! What would you expect of her? If anyone can understand her, it is me.”

“What are you on about!? How can you possibly understand Brienne? You don’t even know her!” Jaime’s anger was cut off by Tyrion’s retort. “Don’t I. I know what it is like to be an outcast. People look at me and judge me unworthy based solely on being a dwarf. Brienne is no different. Like me, she doesn’t fit into Westeros’ expectations and societal norms. She is a highborn lady who dons breeches instead of dresses. Who wields a sword instead of a needle. Who is…” Tyrion cast a sideways glance at Jaime while considering his next words. “… not a beauty by Westerosi standards.”

Jaime felt his face redden in anger, but he could not argue the point. He himself had been guilty of mocking Brienne when they first met. He judged her for the same things Tyrion just described and shame washed over Jaime. Tyrion inhaled deeply and continued.

“And then there is you. The Golden Lion. Acclaimed military leader. Heir to a great house and dubbed as one of the most, if not the most, handsome man in the seven kingdoms. Did you expect Brienne to admit her feelings first? I see the way she responds to insults. Insults like those thrown at her by Daenerys today. I once told Jon Snow something that people like me and Brienne understand all too well. Never forget what you are, the rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor and it can never be used to hurt you.”

Jaime looked at his brother and saw the hurt plastered on his face. It all seemed to Jaime him at once; every past interaction with Brienne playing over in his mind. _‘We have never once had a conversation last this long without you insulting me. Not once.’_

All Jaime wanted to do was run back to the castle and pour his heart out to Brienne. As if sensing his thoughts, Tyrion grabbed his arm. “Tell her Jaime. Tell her how you feel. Don’t let her march south feeling like no one will care if she dies. Don’t let her leave thinking you made this up as nothing more than a friend trying to aid her. Everyone except Brienne believes her to be your wife. Make her believe it.”

“I knew ya loved her. Always had a thing for blondes.” Jaime’s and Tyrion’s heads snapped up to see Bronn sauntering into the room with a crossbow in hand. Jaime’s breathing faltered as he looked to the sellsword. Tyrion leaned back in his chair and took appraisal of the man. “Ser Bronn of the Blackwater. What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing with that?” Jaime cast an inquiring look to the crossbow. Bronn smirked and lifted the weapon in his hand. “Oh this? Your sister paid me to come here and shoot ya both through the head. Crazy cunt.” Both brothers recoiled at the words as Bronn pulled up a seat and placed his crossbow on the table. Reaching across the table, he grabbed Jaime’s ale and downed it.

“So you’re here to kill us then?” Tyrion mused while staring at the crossbow. Bronn shot the younger brother an unimpressed look. “I’m here to collect on our deal. Ya once said if anyone offered me money to have ya killed, that you would pay double. Besides, ya sister has lost her damn mind. Got even worse once this one left.” Bronn pointed at Jaime before continuing. “She’s lost ‘er shit. Married that cunt Euron. Been walkin’ round tellin’ everyone who will listen she is pregnant. I heard her talkin’ to that rat measter. There’s no babe there and the only bulge is from last night’s dinner!”

Jaime felt stunned at the information, but at the same time not at all surprised. A part of Jaime wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but he also knew that when Cersei felt threatened, she became more dangerous. With Brienne headed south on the morrow, this only served to heighten Jaime’s anxiety. He had suspected for some time that Cersei knew of his feelings for Brienne. He could tell by the way Cersei glared at her in the Dragon Pit. Brienne would certainly have a target on her back. Tyrion nodded in understanding. “So what is my debt this time?”

Bronn smirked and sat back in the chair, a sly smile on this face. “A fookin’ castle. A real one this time. None of that shit ya brother here tried to pawn off on me.” Jaime felt irritation bubble up, but he kept his mouth shut and cast an annoyed look at Tyrion.

“There will be quite a few to pick from when the war is won. We march south on the morrow.” Tyrion said the words and then a look flashed across his face that Jaime knew meant his little brother’s mind was in overdrive. “I have a better idea though. March south with us. I have a special assignment for you. If you can do that, I can get you a castle in the Westerlands and depending on circumstances, a position on the small council as Master of Coin.”

A smile pulled at Bronn’s lips. “I like the offer, but I won’t be fightin’ in this war.” Tyrion shook his head. “I’m not asking you to.” At the words, Bronn’s head tilted in confusion; his eyes narrowing.

“I’m asking you to march south hidden amongst our foot soldiers. Bring that crossbow with you and use it to fire at any enemy who comes within five feet of Lady Brienne. If you can do that, you will have all that I offer and more.”

Jaime’s heart leapt at the possibility and he looked nervously to Bronn awaiting his decision. Bronn smiled widely and Tyrion and looked to Jaime. “I’ll keep ya lady safe. Or should I say, ya wife?”

After another round of drinks with Bronn and Tyrion, Jaime excused himself to make this way back to the castle. He needed to see Brienne. He needed to confess everything. As Jaime made his way through the halls with a smile plastered to his face, he rounded the corner to see Pod and Sansa frantically pacing outside his room. As Jaime locked eyes with the pair, he felt the walls close in.

Sansa’s eyes were filled with panic as Jaime approached. “They came for Brienne.” Jaime’s mind was racing as he stood in shock at the words. “Who came for her?”

“Daenerys’ forces. They’ve departed for Dragonstone; the Unsullied and what little remains of the Dothraki. Jon is to ride out on the morrow with the Vale and North down the King’s Road. Brienne was supposed to go with them, but Daenerys ordered her to leave with her forces and sail to Dragonstone.”

Jaime felt as though someone punched him in the gut. He leaned against the wall trying to steady his breathing. _This doesn’t make sense. Why leave at night? She left Tyrion behind._

“I don’t understand. Why would she do this? She is fool to leave at this hour and what does she mean to accomplish!? Tyrion is still here and over half the army she’ll need to lay siege to King’s Landing.”

Sansa looked to Pod who looked solemn and nodded at her in encouragement to share what information Sansa had. Looking between the pair before him, Jaime braced himself for what was to come.

“Varys overheard me speaking to Jon about his lineage. Jon is not a bastard. His true name is Aegon Targaryen. The legitimate son of my Aunt Lyanna and Rhaegar. He has greater claim than Daenerys and now that Varys knows, he has encouraged Daenerys to make haste to King’s Landing to lay siege and take the throne before Jon can arrive. I tried to tell them that Jon doesn’t want it despite my words that Varys overheard, but they would hear none of it. Apparently, Daenerys already knew, but now that Varys shared my conversation with Jon, Daenerys is convinced he will try and take the crown.”

Jaime slumped to the ground and buried his head in his hands; one gold and one true. _Brienne._


	10. Sansa III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa speaks with Jon and a letter arrives from Tarth.

Sansa paced anxiously in her room. _Damn my mouth! I shouldn’t have implored Jon to take the crown. Damn Varys, that snake!_ An abrupt knock at her door pulled her from her thoughts. Opening the door, a tired looking Jon stared at her. Sansa ushered him into the room and urged him to sit down.

“Jon, I’m so sorry for all of this. I didn’t know Varys was there. I should have listened to you. I should have let it go. It’s just that I just don’t trust her and I wanted to ensure our safety after the wars. There is madness in her. I’ve seen it, I swear!”

Jon shook his head and huffed in irritation. “You had no right Sansa. Now what am I to do! She left in the dead of night with her forces and I don’t know if she wants or expects me to follow. We can’t let her lose this battle. If Cersei defeats Daenerys, she will march on us next. We don’t have the forces!”

Sansa grimaced and nodded in understanding. Both women were mad, that much Sansa knew, but Jon had a point. “What will you do?” Sansa looked at Jon imploringly, hoping he had a plan.

Jon shook his head. “We’ll march south today as planned. Given the turn of events, I’ve convinced the wildlings to aid our cause. They know it is in their best interest to ensure we win this war. If Cersei wins, they know they will not be welcome south of the wall should a need ever arise. Their numbers plus the Vale and North give us nearly 3,000 men. That is far less than Cersei and just less than Daenerys. We must combine forces with Daenerys, Sansa. I know you don’t trust her, but we need her in order to win this war.”

Sansa nodded in understanding. She would need to think through how to keep the North, Brienne, and Jaime safe once Daenerys wins her crown, but in the meantime Jon was correct. Cersei needed to be dealt with as she was just as mad, if not more so, and they had no chance at negotiating with her.

Turning back to Jon, Sansa spoke. “Hopefully Arya will get to Cersei and this will all be for nothing. She left after the feast with the Hound to complete her list. Please stay safe Jon.” Jon nodded and stood to leave.

“Jon. One last thing.” Jon turned to look at Sansa, his eyes heavy and wary. “Please. Look out for Brienne. Daenerys has her and I’m worried. I believe Daenerys means to kill her.” Jon sighed and closed his eyes. “Aye. She does. I’ll do the best that I can, but you need to do your part to aid me in that. Don’t let Ser Jaime leave here to go after Brienne. That will surely get Brienne killed.” Sansa gave an affirmative nod and watched him leave.

Days after Jon’s forces left for King’s Landing, Sansa found herself busy with the repairs at Winterfell, tending to the injured, and managing the castle. Oft late, it felt to Sansa there was a fourth task on her plate which in and of itself was a full-time job; keeping Jaime Lannister sane. On more than one occasion, Sansa or Pod had to prevent Jaime from mounting a horse and riding south towards Brienne. When he wasn’t trying to ride off without a plan to rescue Brienne, Jaime was staring longingly to the south from the battlements or angrily beating every tree in the Godswood with his sword. Well… almost every tree. Jaime knew to steer clear of the Weirwood that Bran spent much of his day at.

It was midmorning and Sansa had finished looking over the books when Maester Wolkan knocked to announce his entry to her solar. “My lady. A raven has arrived from Tarth.”

Sansa’s heart skipped a beat. _Finally. This should lift Jaime’s spirits._ Sansa practically jumped from her chair and approached the maester. Extending her hand to take the scroll, Sansa thanked the man and excused herself to find Jaime. It didn’t take long to find Jaime. He was perched in his usual spot atop the wall. _I see it is to be one of those days. Longing._

Making her way up the stairs to join Jaime, Sansa took a moment to appraise the man. He had at least continued bathing and shaving which was a relief, but he looked more hollow today and a touch thinner than when he had arrived at Winterfell. Sansa knew he was petrified for Brienne and she shared that worry. No good could come from Brienne being near King’s Landing for this final battle. Sansa felt the same trepidation for both Jon and Arya.

As she approached Jaime, she could see his eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep. Jaime turned to acknowledge her; a sad smile formed on his face, but Sansa knew that would soon be rectified. “Ser Jaime. I see you’ve taken the mantel of broodiest man at Winterfell. Jon will surely be disappointed in the loss of title. Thank you for keeping that much constant in my life.”

Jaime rolled his eyes and exhaled loudly. Sansa placed her hands atop the battlement and looked out. “Honestly Jaime, I know she is tall, but truly you can’t see her from here. Maybe take a break from your watch.” At that, Jaime chuckled and Sansa smiled broadly. _Good. He is still in there somewhere._ “Well I’ve brought news to cheer you up.” Reaching into her cloak, Sansa removed the sealed missive from Tarth.

Jaime’s eyes widened and he looked at her nervously. Sansa smiled encouragingly and handed Jaime the scroll. Jaime broke the seal and Sansa eagerly awaited his reaction. Then, the atmosphere shifted. Jaime’s face fell and his jaw tightened. Sansa’s brows furrowed in confusion as she watched a light coating of tears fill his eyes. Sensing Sansa’s gaze, Jaime smiled sadly and turned back to the horizon. “Ser Jaime? What does it say?”

Without saying a word nor turning to look at her, Jaime handed the letter to Sansa. She felt her breath catch at the words.

_Kingslayer,_

_You wish to do nothing to dishonor my daughter? Then do not marry her. My answer is no._

_Selwyn Tarth_

Sansa gasped and her heart broke for the man beside her. Placing a hand on Jaime’s arm, she looked to him. “Jaime. I’m sorry, I…”

Jaime waved her off. “It’s fine. I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t want a child of mine marrying someone like me either.” Sansa sighed and looked back out towards the horizon. “Don’t give up. Let Brienne decide.”

Jaime huffed a laugh. “She deserves better than me. I just hope my stupidity doesn’t get her killed.” Sansa knew what she had to do. Turning on heel, she strode to the rookery. Upon entry, she grabbed a blank sheet of parchment and wrote a missive to Brienne’s father.

_Lord Tarth,_

_I hope this letter finds you in good health. My name is Sansa Stark and Brienne is my sworn sword. Let me start by saying what an amazing woman your daughter is. I have never met a more honorable, loyal, and honest person in my entire life. She is truly the perfect knight and my world is made brighter by her presence in it. If I’m being truthful, I would not be alive were it not for her. She saved me from death because of an oath to my mother. Fortunately for me, Brienne’s life was saved by another; Jaime Lannister. Because of his actions, Brienne was alive to save my life._

_When I was little, I dreamed of the fair maidens in songs and books, rescued by gallant knights and swept off their feet. I was a young, naïve, foolish girl and thought that how the world worked. I longed to be swept off my feet by a knight or prince. Then my mother, father, and oldest brother were killed by the Lannisters within just over a years’ time. Another of my brothers was killed by the Boltons. My sister and I were separated for years after our father’s execution and my only surviving brother was missing beyond the wall after being crippled by the Lannisters._

_I’ve been married twice. The first time as a mere child barely flowered; forced into marriage by the crown with Tyrion Lannister. The second time as a young woman; brokered into a marriage with Roose Bolton’s bastard son. The man raped and tormented me. I gave up on fantasies of happiness and love. Brienne rescued me wielding Jaime Lannister’s sword and wearing armor he had custom made for her. Over time, I came to hear more of their relationship. Jaime lost his hand to save her from rape. He risked his life jumping into a bear pit, unarmed to save Brienne. He risked his life by betraying his family for her on multiple occasions. He saved her during the Long Night when the dead rushed in. He saved her from an unwanted marriage demanded of her by Daenerys Targaryen; a self-proclaimed queen now marching on King’s Landing._

_Jaime Lannister made me believe in love again. He looks at your daughter as I imagine those fabled knights looked at their fair maidens. He loves your daughter. He loves her so much that he is willing to set aside his own feelings to honor your wishes; not because he feels he must have your blessing to propose to Brienne, but because he fears you will cast her aside if she marries him and he doesn’t want to see her experience loss of that magnitude._

_I should hate Ser Jaime for all that his family has done to mine and his part in some of those events, but I don’t. Trust me when I say that I wanted to hate him. His reputation proceeds him, and I believed every word of it without giving him so much as a word. I have come to learn that he is nothing of what people say of him. He is honorable and kind. He is brave and protective of those he loves. He is a good man and he would do anything for your daughter. I also learned what truly happened with Aerys. He would rather the world hate him than know the truth. If you knew what he did, you would feel honored to call him goodson as I feel honored to all him friend._

_I believe Brienne loves him. She masks her feelings well and doesn’t speak much on her feelings, but I have only ever seen her smile and laugh when she is with Jaime. I merely ask that you give Jaime permission to ask for her hand. Let Brienne make the decision. She is a good woman and would not marry someone who is not a good man._

_And for what it’s worth, Jaime did what no other knight nor king in Westeros had the courage to do. He knighted Brienne, making her the first female knight in history. He did that because he knew she deserved it more than anyone; not to gain her affections._

_Sansa Stark_


	11. Daenerys I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Switching it up a bit with a Daenerys chapter. I just wanted to get in her head and work through some passage of time. This is a short one, so I'm also posting the next chapter - Jaime POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double posting again given the short chapter. Thanks for reading!

Daenerys paced impatiently on deck. The trek to the harbor had taken longer than she would have liked. Despite beating the dead, snow cover still lay thick on the ground and slowed their march to the ships. Her men were not accustomed to this weather as the Northerners were. Varys stood beside her and spoke incessantly.

“Your Grace, by the time we reach Dragonstone to rest the troops and resupply, Jon Snow’s forces are likely to be south of the neck. We should move hastily if we are to win this campaign.”

 _Like I don’t know that!_ Daenerys huffed in irritation and looked to the man. “Are you certain Jon would seek the crown? He seemed adamant that he did not want it. We could rule alongside one another.” At heart, Daenerys could not bring herself to stop wanting Jon even though she already knew the answer to her question. She ached for him and had grown resentful in Winterfell as she felt him withdraw.

 _This is all Sansa’s fault. She poisoned his mind. Turned him against me!_ “I do not know your grace, but he has the stronger claim. His sister seems to be in his ear and I don’t believe that we can trust Sansa. The girl was practically raised by Cersei during her most impressionable years and her hardships under Baelish’s thumb and Ramsay’s torture make her someone that I don’t trust to hold that kind of sway over a ruler. Sansa has also made it clear that she wishes independence for the North. Her people are weakened now with no means to defy the crown when you win this campaign. We should replace her at Winterfell with someone more loyal to the crown, yet someone the north would accept.”

Daenerys nodded, but worried about the implications with Jon. _Can I sway him to me? What will he do when I unseat Sansa at Winterfell?_ Exhaling loudly, Daenerys rounded on Varys. “I agree, Sansa cannot be trusted. Neither she, nor her sister, nor her sworn sword.” Daenerys mind turned to Brienne who was being held below deck.

Initially, Daernerys had thought nothing of the woman. Brienne stood out in the dreary north with her blonde hair, pale skin, and tall stature, but she was a quiet woman and unassuming. Duty seemed to come first and the woman’s attitude reminded Daenerys slightly of Grey Worm. Built to serve. Brienne seemed to hold no personal ambition which was just the kind of person Daenerys sought to rule. In the few interactions Daenerys had with Brienne, the female warrior seemed awkward and ignorant in the art of politics. Daenerys was however impressed watching Brienne spar and defeat Grey Worm repeatedly. _A body made for war, not love. Then again, I thought the same of Grey Worm._

Then the Kingslayer rode into Winterfell and everything changed. Daenerys mused thinking back on her initial assessment of the man. He was absurdly handsome and cocksure. Had she not hated the man for killing her father, she would have preferred him to Jon to play the role of consort. A striking pair they would make. Standing in a room on trial before nobility whose kin he had killed or had a hand in killing, the Kingslayer should have been fearful or, at a minimum, remorseful. Instead, the man before her had been unrepentant and insolent. He should have been executed on the spot. No, instead Brienne stood before him and turned the tides of the trial.

Once Brienne swayed Sansa, Daenerys knew she had no support to execute the man. Then her relationship with Jon disintegrated while Jaime mooned over Brienne. It was obvious to all at Winterfell that he was smitten, but strangely the ugly woman had captured the wildling’s interest as well. It all seemed too perfect when Daenerys approached Tormund about an alliance. The man had no interest in anything save for returning north of the wall and bringing Brienne with him. Daenerys could accomplish three needs at once. Punish Jaime for killing her father, sway Tormund to lead his people in her cause, and punish Brienne for standing by Jaime. Daenerys explained to Tormund that Westerosi politics dictated she, as queen, could ensure their match. It was just a bonus that that Jaime and Brienne would never get to realize love. If Daenerys was doomed to lose her sun and stars, why should Brienne and Jaime find theirs when they had wronged her so.

Daenerys broke from her thoughts at the cries of her children above. Drogon and Rhaegal circled the skies above their ships. Calling Drogon from the sky, Daenerys turned to Varys. “I will ride Drogon the rest of the way. We should reach Dragonstone within a few hours and I want to clear my mind.” Varys nodded as the dragon swooped down and held speed alongside the boat; his right wing extended just over the deck. Taking the hand of a nearby Unsullied, Daenerys carefully stepped onto Drogon’s wing from the ship’s steps and held tightly, carefully making her way up his arm to sit astride his back. Pulling up into the sky, a smile pulled at her lips.

 _This is freedom. From here I don’t need to deal with politics, betrayals, unrequited love, and insolent Westerosi._ Daenerys leaned back, closing her eyes and lifting her head to the sun. The sun. Warm and kissing her skin. _Nothing like that wretched wasteland of the north with its cold, unappreciative people._

Daenerys thought back to how many of her forces she had lost. Her Dothraki were all but extinguished. Her Unsullied had their numbers more than halved. At least she still had her two remaining children. The thought of losing Viserion to answer the North’s call for hep pushed bile into her throat. From the moment Daenerys arrived in Winterfell, she felt disrespected, unappreciated, and ignored. Jon slipped away from her and even her closest friends, Grey Worm and Missandei, seemed so wrapped up in their own burgeoning relationship that they didn’t notice her emotional pain.

Daenerys was happy for her two friends though. Unlike Jaime and Brienne, Grey Worm and Missandei deserved their happiness. The comparison again conjured feelings of hatred towards Jaime and Brienne. Her mind wandered with varying forms of torture for the pair once her throne was won. Maybe I’ll execute Brienne in front of Jaime by dragonfire. Maybe I’ll force Jaime to wed and bed me in front of Brienne upon threat of her execution if he disobeys. Maybe I’ll force them to wed others and live separated. Maybe I’ll let them think they are safe; let them start a family only to take the babe from them and claim it as my own since no man’s seed can quicken in my womb. Then I’ll have a fierce warrior for an heir, and they’ll be forced to watch their child grow up with me.

Daenerys again smiled at the thoughts. Soon they neared Dragonstone and Daenerys’ mind turned to the crown. Her distraction cost her dearly.


	12. Jaime VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Near a week has passed since Selwyn's letter. Jaime gets word in two more letters which evoke entirely different emotional reactions.

Jaime walked along the battlement for what seemed like the millionth time in near a fortnight. Brienne consumed his every waking thought and haunted his dreams. It was barely sunrise and Jaime had awoken from another nightmare; the same nightmare he had for a week now. The same nightmare that drew him to the battlements, gazing looking south.

In his dream, Jaime was in King’s Landing standing below the platform set between the battlements of the city’s outer gates. Brienne stood atop the platform looking down; fear in her eyes and a sword to her neck. The dream ended the same each time. Brienne would look to him and utter his name before falling from the platform. He ran full force, sliding to his knees, but he was too slow every time. His armor too heavy. His sword weighing him down. She hit the ground just feet in front of him. He skull cracking open violently and blood pouring from her face. The light in her sapphire pools extinguishing.

As he had the other nights, Jaime had awoken with a start; sweating and riddled with anxiety. From the battlements and looking to the south, he prayed to any god who would listen, old and new, begging for her well-being. Even now knowing he could never have her, his heart searched for her. He would respect Selwyn’s desires and leave Brienne be regardless of what Sansa said. Jaime couldn’t risk Brienne straining the relationship with her father, her only kin, for the off chance she would accept his hand. She likely wouldn’t anyway. The best he could hope for was friendship.

Jaime watched the sunrise and felt the morning rays hit his face. The air was still cold, but the warmth of the sun touched his cheeks. Unbeknownst to Jaime, a raven flew in from the east to the rookery. Some time later, Maester Wolken approached him on the battlement. “Ser Jaime. The Lady Sansa has requested to see you in her solar.” Giving the man a smile and nod, he walked slowly towards the solar and braced himself for whatever information Sansa was about to share. _Gods please let Brienne be alright._

Approaching Sansa’s solar, Jaime knocked quietly and heard the young woman call for him enter. Stepping into the room, Jaime observed the roaring fire and stack of papers on her desk. _Apparently, I’m not the only one who can’t sleep._ Sansa stood from her chair and rounded the desk, a letter in her hand. Jaime’s heart began pounding. _Please, please, please let that not bring ill tidings of Brienne._ Tentatively looking into Sansa’s eyes, he saw her face break into a small smile. She handed him the letter and he read the missive.

_Lady Stark,_

_I thank you for the kind words and update on my daughter. I rarely hear from her these days and I worry for her wellbeing. I’m proud to hear of her accomplishments and her service to you. I’m sorry to hear of your misfortunes and admire your strength._

_I also appreciate your words regarding Jaime Lannister. I still have my reservations about the boy, but I will honor your request. Tell the boy he has my blessing to ask for Brienne’s hand, but if she says ‘no’, he must honor that and leave her be._

_Selwyn Tarth_

Jaime felt weightless and reread the letter a second time. _Surely, I must have misunderstood something._ Reading the second paragraph again, Jaime felt his lips pull into a wide smile and an incredible joy overtook him. Looking back to Sansa, he observed the satisfied smirk on her face as she stood before him; back straight and hands clasped behind her back. Jaime pulled her into a firm embrace, lifting her from the floor. “Thank you! Thank you!”

He could feel Sansa chuckling against his chest before she spoke in muffled tones. “Ser Jaime. I can’t breathe.” Quickly he put her down and stepped back; a massive smile stretching across his face. “Sorry.”

Sansa let out a girlish laugh that she hadn’t in years. “Please do try not to ruin your real proposal this time with that mouth of yours. Or rather… use the mouth for something other than talking.” They both snorted a laugh and he looked back at the missive, clutching it tightly. “I will try my best not to fuck it up. Orders of Lady Sansa.”

Bowing slightly, he retreated from the room and practically skipped into the courtyard. Unsurprisingly, Pod was already there headed towards the armory. The boy was frequently awake this early; likely on account of Brienne’s requirements for his training. “Morning Pod!” Jaime could hardly wipe the smile off his face. Pod looked at him as though he had sprouted a second head. “Morning ser. Are you… alright?”

“Couldn’t be better Pod. What are you doing?” The squire looked around and then pointed to the armory. “I was just going to do some drills ser. Are you certain everything is alright? Has the maester given you… something?” Jaime laughed and clapped Pod’s shoulder. “No, nothing of the sort. Mind if I come with you? I could use a spar.” Pod smiled apprehensively but nodded in agreement. An hour passed before the boy was begging for mercy.

“Please ser. Can we break? Gods how do you have so much energy?” Jaime shrugged and kept smiling as he moved to sit on the ground and lean against the castle walls. Pod sat next to him and took out a small flask of water from his jerkin. Taking a long sip, he handed the flask to Jaime who happily accepted the cool liquid.

“Ser?” Pod looked to Jaime questioningly. “How long do you suppose until Daenerys’ forces reach King’s Landing?” Jaime sighed and his spirits dipped slightly at the thought. “They will have certainly reached Dragonstone by now. I can’t imagine Daenerys staying there longer than a day to resupply. They should already be on the way to King’s Landing.”

Pod smiled sadly and paused before speaking his next words. “Do you think Ser Bienne will be alright?” Jaime felt his heart clench at the thought of Brienne alone in close quarters with Daenerys’ forces. _Were they treating her as a comrade or prisoner? Were they being respectful to her or mocking her? Were they taking care of her or making her do without?_

Jaime felt anger flood him at the thought of any harm befalling Brienne before the siege even took place. “If she is not, I will kill every last one of them myself.” Jaime could feel Pod staring him down. “You won’t need to do it alone.”

Jaime turned his head to see Pod looking resolutely at him. Brienne had done wonderful work training the young man. He had become an impressive fighter and more than held his own in the Long Night. _I would knight him myself if I wasn’t so certain Brienne intended to do so._ Jaime smiled genuinely at the boy turned man and clapped his shoulder. “I know Pod.” Moving to stand, Pod stood quickly next to him.

“Ser?” _Gods this one always has so many questions._ _Brienne must have gone insane after enduring me in the Riverlands and then this one._ “Yes?” Jaime looked the lad in the face and saw Pod straighten to full height, a no-nonsense expression on his face. “Why did you lie about marrying her?” _Shit._

“It’s um… a bit complicated. See there was this meeting…” Before Jaime could continue, Pod interrupted him. “I know all that. What I mean to ask is why pretend? Why not ask for her hand?” Pod’s tone was stern and confident, catching Jaime off-guard.

“I don’t know that she would want that. Nor did I think her father would want me asking.” Jaime offered a sad smile to Pod. While he was thrilled to have Selwyn’s blessing, Jaime was uncertain how Brienne would react to his question. “You love her.” Pod’s question was more a statement and Jaime sucked in a breath. “I do.” Pod nodded and looked towards the horizon. Not a minute later, he looked back at Jaime. “When this war is over, I think you should either ask for her hand properly or leave her be. She has been through enough. She doesn’t need any more games where the heart is concerned.”

 _Good lad. I think Brienne had more influence than the sword._ “You have my word Pod. I will do right by her. If not, you can run me through with your sword.” Jaime smiled, but Pod did not return the gesture. “Good, because I will… ser.” Pod smiled tightly and turned to walk back inside the castle walls. _Good lad indeed._

Later that day, Jaime found himself helping some of the men rebuild the castle wall. It was hard work, but Jaime found that staying busy kept his mind occupied enough that he wasn’t in a constant state of worry. After breaking for the day, Jaime turned to head back towards the castle. Rounding the corner, Jaime observed Sansa and Maester Wolkan speaking in urgent, hushed tones. As Jaime and Sansa locked eyes, he immediately observed concern in Sansa’s features.

“What happened?” Sansa and Wolkan exchanged a look at Jaime’s question and the maester bowed before retreating into the castle. Sansa stood with her back straight; her voice cool and clipped. “Euron Greyjoy ambushed Queen Daenerys and her fleet. One of the dragons was killed, several ships destroyed, Missandei captured.”

“And Brienne?” Jaime looked imploringly at Sansa who looked down at the letter held tightly in her hands. “No word. I’m sorry.” Looking up at Jaime, Sansa’s features turned cold. “Your sister will receive no mercy for this.”

“She deserves none.” Jaime closed his eyes and swallowed deeply. Jaime meant what he said, but a small part of himself did feel for the young girl he once knew. The girl before she turned power hungry, selfish, and mad. That girl didn’t exist anymore and only a monster from the Seven Hells more frightening than the Mountain occupied the Keep. Jaime’s thoughts turned to Brienne. Jaime had thought Daenerys mad before, but this turn of events now doomed everyone around the woman. He had to get to Brienne.

Jaime made his way back to his room and sat in front of the fire. Jaime buried his head in his hands; his mind swirling. Looking to his right, he saw the glint of Oathkeeper catching shadows from the dancing flames in the hearth. When Daenerys’ men came for Brienne that night, Jaime had been devastated to find it in her ransacked room. They took her unarmed and unarmored. Jaime had taken Oathkeeper to his room and cleaned it every night before bed. _Oathkeeper_. The symbol of his heart that he could never bear to see Brienne without. _‘Its yours. It will always be yours.’_

Daenerys’ words echoed in his head. _‘_ _Should you try and do anything stupid such as march south after we leave, I will have your wife executed.’_ Those words had been the only thing keeping Jaime at Winterfell since the forces left. Somewhere inside, Jaime now realized that staying would not prevent her execution. He had to go to her. He had to save her. Taking Oathkeeper in his good hand, he looked at it and saw nothing but Brienne. _I need to leave._

Jaime quickly packed a saddle bag and made his way towards the stables. Oathkeeper on one hip and Widow’s Wail on the other. _‘I never understood why some knights carry two swords.’_ Guiding a horse into the courtyard, Jaime quickly saddled the animal and thought through the best route south. Jaime felt rather than saw someone approach. Refusing to turn around and halt his progress, Jaime continued stuffing things into the saddle bags.

“They’re going to burn that city to the ground.” _Sansa_. Without turning, he spoke to her. “I won’t run from this fight.” Suddenly a hand was at his arm and yanking him around. “Yet again, you’re not thinking this through.”

“You think I ever think things through? I screamed ‘sapphires’ and lost my hand, for Brienne. I jumped into a bearpit unarmed, for Brienne. I risked the wrath of my house giving away a priceless sword and custom armor, for Brienne. I committed treason in letting the crown’s enemy cross siege lines, for Brienne. I abandoned my house, my family, and rode north, for Brienne. I stayed north, for Brienne. I will ride south now, for Brienne. There is nothing you can say to stop me.” Jaime spat the words angrily. He was struggling to control his breathing and needed to leave before Sansa could do anything drastic like call the guards.

“You think I mean to stop you?” Sansa’s words caught Jaime off guard. For the first time since he faced her, he truly looked at the young woman. She was fully dressed with a saddle bag flung over her shoulder. Looking past her, he could see Pod approaching determinedly with two horses and his own saddle bag around his neck. Jaime’s eyes widened in shock and he looked back to Sansa.

“You never think before acting. That is why I’m coming with you. We’re going to find her and bring her home or we’re going to die trying.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoy nothing more than taking D&D's stupid words in the back half of 8x04 and "improving" them. I've done it in other works and like playing with different angles. A giant middle finger to the Ds.


	13. Brienne III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne and the allied forces prepare to attack King's Landing.

Nearly a week had passed since the attack by Euron’s fleet leaving them with less ships, less men, less advisors to the queen, and more unhinged behavior from Daenerys. Brienne now stood at the outskirts of King’s Landing, looking toward the outer walls of the city as the sun rose in the distance. It was eerie how serene everything seemed when today’s events would be anything but peaceful.

With their delayed arrival at King’s Landing, Jon and his northern forces had caught up to meet with them. Jon and Daenerys spent much of their time over the past day in a tent off to the side of the encampment. Passersby cringed at the sound of the queen’s ferocious words towards Jon and most knew to keep a safe distance from their tent.

Brienne’s mind wandered to Missandei. The woman had been very quiet, but very sweet whilst at Winterfell. Upon realizing she was missing, Grey Worm had been in a panic for days and seemed more hollow with every passing hour. His demeanor only seemed to compound Daenerys’ mood.

About an hour later, Brienne was surprised to see Jon approach her. Standing quickly, Brienne gave a small bow of the head. “My lord. Is everything alright?’ Jon sighed and looked wearily towards the castle. “We’ve received word from Cersei that she means to treat with us before the castle gates today. Neither Daenerys nor I believe a surrender is on Cersei’s mind, so we prepare for war. Be ready to march out soon.”

Brienne swallowed thickly and looked to the ground before speaking her next words. “And are you alright?” Jon huffed a laugh beside her. “I reckon I’m meant to be asking you that. Daenerys and I are… at odds. She has found out some things about me that make her uneasy about my presence here. I’ve agreed to send in my troops, but she wants me to wait here with several of her guards to ensure I don’t try and take the throne.”

Brienne felt her brows furrow in confusion. “Why would she think that? What claim would you have to it?” Jon looked away and sucked in a deep breath. “I suppose you’ll hear about it sooner or later. I’m the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. She thinks I mean to take the crown when Cersei falls.”

Shock coursed through Brienne as the words hit here. Before she could speak, Jon narrowed his eyes and spoke again. “There is something I need to tell you Brienne, but not here. Follow me.” As if the conversation couldn’t be any stranger, Brienne found herself following Jon towards his tent and wondering what he could possibly have to tell her that would require this level of privacy if he was willing to so openly discuss his discord with Daenerys.” 

Entering the tent, Brienne was surprised to see Lord Tyrion and a vaguely familiar sellsword sitting at a table. As she entered, both men stood and Lord Tyrion smiled at her. “Lady Brienne. Good to see you are well. We were worried about your _journey_ south. This here is Ser Bronn, he knows me and Ser Jaime quite well.”

“We’ve met.” Brienne remembered the sellsword from her brief time in King’s Landing; particularly the day she departed with Pod to find the Stark sisters. The man gave Brienne slight unease, but if Bronn was friends with Ser Jaime and Lord Tyrion, perhaps he wasn’t too untrustworthy.

Bronn smirked at her words and Tyrion’s brows raised slightly. “Well then. Good. Bronn here will be out in the field from the rear flanks. He isn’t here to fight for Daenerys. He is here to protect you. We have reason to believe both queens and their men will be looking to target you.” Brienne felt her breath hitch at the words, but she had expected as much. This is the outcome she envisioned the entire journey south; her long, lonely, confinement below deck in a cage had given her ample time to consider her fate.

“Ya worry about the fightin’ and I’ll worry about ya back.” The sellsword cast a sly smile at her and she nodded in appreciation. Jon excused himself noting his need to return to Daenerys and give her the final update on his men’s readiness to move out. Tyrion offered Brienne a seat between him and Bronn at the table which Brienne reluctantly took. _I suppose if I’m to die today, it would be nice to die not having spent the last weeks in complete isolation._

Tyrion and Bronn carried on in whatever conversation they had been engaged before Brienne entered. Brienne sipped on the cup of wine they offered her, but her mind couldn’t quite focus on their conversation. She wondered how Sansa faired. She wondered if Pod was taking well to his new charge to watch over the woman. She wondered if Jaime was well. _At least he doesn’t need to continue suffering through the indignity of pretending to be wed to me._

As if sensing her emotional distance, Tyrion’s voice broke through the clutter of her thoughts. “Lady Brienne? Would you like some more wine?” Brienne shook her head slightly, declining the offer. At her response, Bronn snorted. “Not a talker this one. Then again, with ya _husband_ , I’m sure ya not used to getting’ a word in edgewise. He was mighty sad to be stuck in that shithole.” Both Bronn and Tyrion chuckled at the sellsword’s words and Brienne felt her face flush. _Gods, he knows about the fake marriage too. Did Jaime jape with them about it? I must look like such a fool._

Brienne stood abruptly and excused herself, citing the need to prepare for battle. _Prepare. Prepare with what? I have no armor or weapon._ Distantly, Brienne heard Tyrion call her name as she left the tent, but she couldn’t be there anymore. Not knowing she was just as much a jape to Tyrion, Bronn, and Jaime as she had been to the boys at the ball her father had held for her so many years ago. _Brienne the Beauty._

Walking through the encampment, Brienne approached the makeshift armory where several Unsullied stood. “Excuse me. We move out soon and I need something for the battle.” Daenerys’ men cast an uninterested glance at her before turning back to each other and continuing their conversation in a language she couldn’t make out.

Huffing irritation, Brienne stepped closer to the table and grabbed a weapon, inspecting it closely. One of the Unsullied moved to her, grabbing her hand and yelling something in Valyrian. Brienne tried to explain, but all the soldiers in the tent began yelling and shoving her backwards. Brienne heard someone yell from the distance. Turning to look, she observed Grey Worm marching towards them with an agitated look on his face.

He said something to the men in Valyrian and turned to Brienne. His nostrils flared and his eyes held nothing but fury. “You not be here! For Unsullied.” Brienne drew herself to full height. “I have no weapon! No armor! How am I to fight for Daenerys’ crown with only my hands against the enemy!?”

Grey Worm huffed in irritation and stepped to a box at the back of the tent. Riffling through its content, he produced a mangled looking sword. The blade was dull and it was dented at multiple points. He thrust the sword towards Brienne and yelled at her. “Take this. Good enough.” _Are you fucking kidding me?_ Brienne looked to the box and realized what it was. All their discarded weapons which wouldn’t be fit for a squire to train with. Brienne exhaled and grabbed the sword, glaring at the men. For a moment, Brienne could swear she saw a flash of sympathy in Grey Worm’s eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it came. Turning on heel, Brienne marched back to the lines of men preparing to march south. The laughter of the men as she left the tent was not missed. _By the Gods I will kill them and take their damn weapons._

That next hour passed in a blur. Their full forces lined up outside the city gates, Drogon at the rear and sending shrill cries into the air. Missandei walking onto the platform. Cersei smiling demonically at her adversary before giving the command to the Mountain. Missandei’s head plummeting to the ground. Blood from her neck spilling out over the platform and down to the ground. _Gods that poor woman_. Grey Worm’s choked cries. _Why didn’t Daenerys do more!? Why not take flight on her dragon before they could harm the woman!? She is here to attack anyway!_

Then the fighting started. Daenerys made quick work of Euron’s fleet and blew a hole through the walls of the city gates. The Golden Company was nearly destroyed by that action alone. Brienne and the rest of Daenerys’ forces fought those who remained and made quick entry to the city. As Brienne stood at the frontlines, she both heard and felt Drogon land on the roof of a nearby building. All fighting ceased and the Lannister men laid down their weapons; a desperate plea for mercy etched on their faces. A group of Daenerys’ men pushed ahead towards the keep in what Brienne assumed was an effort to kill or capture Cersei.

Brienne saw it then. The madness in Daenerys’ violet eyes. In an instant, Brienne was transported back to the bath with Jaime. His recounting of Aerys and that fateful day in King’s Landing. _Burn them all._ Brienne looked to Daenerys. _Please. Don’t. It’s over._ Then, Daenerys took off on Drogon and began to lay waste to the city and castle. Grey Worm, who was a mere several feet from her, shoved his spear through the gut of a Lannister soldier whose arms had been raised in surrender. The man’s innards spilled out onto the dirt as Grey Worm yanked the spear out fiercely. Brienne found her voice “No! Stop! They’ve surrendered!” Grey Worm cast a rage filled look at her before yelling something in Valyrian. Suddenly, the rest of the Unsullied began attacking the surrendered Lannister bannermen too. An Unsullied charged at her, but before she could so much as swing the man was greeted with an arrow to the neck. From an alleyway in the distance, Brienne caught a wink from Bronn as the man reached to reload his weapon.

The city fell into chaos. Women being assaulted. Babes crying out for help. Citizens screaming in fear as the dragon torched their homes and loved ones. Brienne began to fight back against the Unsullied and grabbed a better sword from one of the dead.

A small number of the Northmen and Wildlings tried to stop the fighting, but most stood in shock or joined in; the thirst for blood evident in their eyes. Brienne’s head swam with a mix of rage and desperation. She had to protect the innocent. She had to stop this. Then she heard a thundering crash as building collapsed in the distance. A suffocating blanket of dust spewed into the air and the screams of innocent lives being taken drowned out Drogon’s cries and dragonfire hitting everything below.

Looking over her shoulder, Brienne saw one of the few remaining scorpions. In a mad dash, pushing through allied and enemy forces alike, Brienne screamed for help to join her atop the wall. As she made her way up the steps to the battlements, jumping over sections that had collapsed, she reached the lone standing, loaded scorpion. _Fuck. How do I operate this thing!?_ In the distance, she heard her name being shouted. Bronn. Looking to the man who came running from below, he gestured wildly towards the scorpion.

“The wooden lever on the right side! Aim and pull it towards ya hard!” At his words, Brienne looked down and saw it. Brienne lined up against her target. Drogon and Daenerys were oblivious to her intentions and position; too busy spewing death on those below. The dragon cut parallel lines across the city relative to where Brienne stood. Flames from the beast poured down onto the city. The fighting below Brienne seemed to slow in her mind.

Brienne’s thought back to Tarth. The bow and arrow was the first weapon she learned to wield. Given the island’s meager resources and forces, it was imperative that all soldiers learned how to defend an attack before the enemy made landfall. Every soldier on Tarth was an expert marksman; their skill unrivaled in Westeros. Brienne had learned how to track her target. How to analyze its speed and the trajectory of target relative to the weapon’s range. Working it out in her head, Brienne took a deep breath, found the line she needed, and pulled the lever.

The arrow cut through the sky and hit her target dead on. The arrow pierced through Drogon’s thick neck. Blood spluttered and the beast went careening towards the ground below. The small figure on its back screamed and tried to brace for impact, but an unanticipated roll of the beast flung her off and her body crashed into a building like a rag doll. Even at a distance, Brienne could see her spine snap in half given the high speed.

The city seemed to freeze in that moment. Eyes began to look towards her as she could barely register everything around her. _Gods. I killed her. Queenslayer._


	14. Sansa IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa, Jaime, and Pod make their way south. They encounter something unexpected

Just over a fortnight had passed since they left Winterfell and their little group found themselves approaching the Crossroads. They had ridden hard and fast with few stops and were a week out from the capital. Sansa mused how just years ago, she never would have considered such an arduous journey. Journeys of this nature were meant for the likes of knights or Arya. A small feeling of pride blossomed in Sansa’s chest as she considered how she had grown over the years. From a frightened little bird into a leader of her pack. Wolves would not back down to dragons nor lions, although oddly enough she felt an emerging peace with the lions was on the horizon. Perhaps with a new head of their pride in Jaime, the two could coexist.

If Sansa was being honest with herself, she had grown quite fond of the man beside her. In some ways Jaime reminded her of Tyrion. Jaime’s wit and sarcasm often used to mask insecurities and emotions of the heart. In a couple of ways, Jaime reminded her of Tywin. Fierce Lannister pride and a ferocious protectiveness of those he cared for; not that Tywin cared for anyone so much as himself. In no way did Jaime remind her of Cersei. _How these two shared a womb is beyond me. How they shared a bed is even worse to think upon._

Sansa remembered seeing Jaime for the first time. The Kingslayer. He rode into Winterfell at the head of King Robert’s entourage and exuded Lannister arrogance. His long golden locks, unnatural handsomeness, and piercing green eyes. He was every image the knight that Sansa held in her head. Loathe as she was to admit it, she had been slightly taken by the man. Then she came to know him for what he was; or rather what she assumed him to be. She hated him. She hated Cersei. She hated Joffrey and all things Lannister.

Funny how just a few moon turns in Winterfell changed all that. Now she looked at a man who she would gladly fight for. Not in the literal sense of course, but in the political forum. _I’ll leave the killing to Arya._ She came to think of Ser Jaime as the annoyingly handsome, slightly obnoxious, much older brother that she never wanted, yet seemed destined to orbit around a shared sun with; Brienne.

Brienne had saved Sansa from death; a debt for which Sansa could never repay the knight. Brienne taught Sansa more about the world than Sansa thought possible. Sansa thought the only lessons to be learned from were politically savvy snakes such as Baelish and Cersei. Instead, Sansa found herself surprised by all she learned from Brienne unbeknownst to the quiet woman whom Sansa had come to consider her chosen friend.

Brienne showed Sansa that not all knights are without honor. Not all people outside her family are untrustworthy. Not every woman must be dainty to be beautiful. Not every reputation is earned. Not every romance is just a story.

Sansa was thrilled at the prospect of Jaime and Brienne getting their happy ending. First, she just had to help rescue the latter. As they neared the Crossroads, Jaime spoke to them. “There is an inn up ahead we can stop at… briefly.”

Sansa knew just the inn he meant. _Gods what if I had just gone with Brienne back then instead of keeping with Baelish._ Casting a sarcastic glance at Jaime, Sansa snorted and spoke. “How kind of you to allow us rest to drink water from somewhere other than atop our horses. Could we even spare a moment to eat something or would the process of my chewing delay us too much?”

Matching her tone, Jaime drawled in response. “Well now you’re asking quite a lot Lady Stark. You expect water AND food.” Sansa bit back the smile threatening to form. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Looking to Pod, she kept the game going. “Did you hear that Pod? Ser Jaime here will allow us to drink water without spilling it all over ourselves from atop the horses as they gallop frantically at the pace he sets. Now if you wish the luxury of eating for the first time in near a day, you’ll need to indulge on whatever crumbs have fallen to your tunic and saddle since we last partook in stale bread atop the mounts.”

Pod tried to hide his spreading smile by turning the other way. The boy had learned quickly in their travel not to play into Sansa’s and Jaime’s game of one-upmanship. As Sansa looked back to Jaime with a satisfied smirk, she observed a change in his demeanor. He was fixated on something just ahead of them and his brows were furrowed in contemplation. Following his eyeline, Sansa observed a group of Lannister bannerman standing outside the inn looking wary and injured.

Before Sansa could say anything, Jaime was spurring his horse forward quickly. Sansa and Pod took his queue and followed, and Sansa watched as he quickly dismounted upon reaching the men. “Commander! By the Gods its you! We thought you died in the battle north.” One of the men, a more senior looking officer spoke to Jaime, eyes wide, and relief shining through. “Boys! It’s Ser Jaime!” The man called out to the group behind him. “Someone fetch Daven!”

Sansa moved to Jaime’s side and searched for his reaction. _Gods what can this mean. Lannister men are here instead of the capital._ _Has Daenerys won already? Are we too late to save Brienne?_ Two men quickly exited the inn. Upon seeing Jaime, one of them ran to him in shock. “Cuz! Thank the seven you’re alive!”

Jaime put his hand on the man’s shoulder and spoke urgently. “Daven! What happened? Why are you all here? What happened in King’s Landing?” Daven exhaled and his shoulders slumped. Looking back to his group of roughly a dozen Lannister bannermen, he turned back to Jaime with watery eyes.

“The dragon queen. She killed our men. It all happened so fast.” Daven’s eyes seemed to go distant; lost in some horrifying memory. Jaime quickly shook his shoulders to regain his attention. “Daven! Start from the beginning. What happened!? We know Euron attacked Daenerys’ fleet and took her advisor. What happened after that?”

Daven sucked in a deep breath. “Daenerys had her forces outside the gates of the city. Cersei took her friend atop the platform beheaded her. The dragon queen went insane. She torched Euron’s fleet and then took out most of the Golden Company. Her ground forces attacked and we were easily defeated. When they entered the city, we surrendered. We put down our weapons, but then they began attacking. Not only us, but the citizens. The dragon queen started to torch the entire city and keep.”

Sansa felt her heart stutter at the words. She cast a nervous glance to Jaime who she could tell was in a state of panic. Jaime’s voice sounded choked as he asked his next words. “Does Daenerys sit on the throne?”

Daven shook his head in denial. “She’s dead. I heard they captured Cersei and she sits in the black cells with the other prisoners.” _Dead?_ _Other prisoners?_ Sansa finally spoke up. “How did Daenerys die?”

Daven looked to Sansa at her words. “When the dragon queen started torching the city, a small group of Northmen and Wildlings tried to help us. One of them, a tall woman. I remember her from Riverrun. The one you met with cuz. She ran to the battlements and fired a scorpion at the dragon. She killed the beast and Daenerys in the process. She stopped the destruction.”

“Brienne.” Jaime said the words as if a prayer. “Is Brienne alright!?” Daven looked back to his cousin and didn’t seem optimistic. “I don’t know. When the Unsullied and Dothraki realized what had happened, they went for her. Bronn and Tyrion were there. A handful of Northmen, Wildlings, and our men helped too. They stopped Daenerys’ forces from killing her in the streets, but they took her to the cells. Tyrion threatened the men that killing her on the spot would start a riot. He told them she was due a trial by Westerosi law. They took Jon Snow too. A group of Unsullied had already captured him outside the city trying to get through. Said he was guilty of colluding with Brienne to kill Daenerys for the crown.”

Sansa felt her chest constrict. Any momentary relief at the news of Brienne’s survival was quickly extinguished like a flame in the wind. _Gods they will kill her. And Jon! This is a nightmare._ Daven glanced between Sansa and Jaime before continuing. “After the fighting was done, they started lining up our bannermen. Killing them. I rounded up who I could to get out to safety, but most are lost to us.”

Sansa didn’t know what to think. _They want Brienne’s head. They are likely to kill Jon too. What of Arya? The Unsullied and Dothraki are bloodthirsty like Daenerys._

Sansa looked to Jaime and saw him enter battle commander mode. “Daven. How many of our bannermen did Cersei call to the city for defense? Did she leave Addam and his men in the Riverlands?”

Daven’s brows furrowed as he thought the question through. “No. Cersei called for full forces, but Addam held his 3,000 in the West under Genna. Genna returned to the rock after the dragon queen’s men abandoned it. Genna knew Cersei could not win the war and wanted protection should the need to treat with the dragon queen arise. We were headed back there now.” Daven looked back to his small group who were now listening quietly, eyes fixed on Jaime.

One of the men spoke. “My lord, what would you have us do?” Jaime looked at the men and spoke commandingly. “We march on the city. With our 3,000 men the numbers are near equal, but they don’t know the city. I also think I can amass more troops. Daven, I need you to find the innkeeper. We need to get a raven to Genna. And then I need to get a letter to Tarth.”

Daven nodded in understanding. “You mean to get Cersei back?” Jaime scoffed and shook his head. “Fuck Cersei. Let her sit in the cells or better yet, I’m certain Lady Stark here could figure out what to do with her. We’re going back for Brienne.” Jaime cast a sideways glance at Sansa. “And Jon.”

Sansa found a new resolve and was transported back to her trial for Littlefinger. A smile tugged at her lips. “I will write to the Vale. After the battle with the dead, I did not command the Vale to fight for Daenerys. They marched home. One star took out a dragon. Imagine what lions, wolves, falcons, and some stormlanders can do together.”


	15. Brienne IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne does a lot of thinking in the black cells and an offer is made.

_Brienne stood just inside the gates of King’s Landing. All movement around her had stopped as eyes turned to the dragon queen atop Drogon. The woman’s eyes flashed with fire and she screamed “Burn them all!” before taking flight on the beast. The beast spewed fire onto the people and city below. Next to her, the Unsullied and Dothraki began killing surrendered soldiers. Killing men, women, and children. Killing babes in their mothers’ arms. “Burn them all. Burn them all.” The relentless chanting of the dragon queen’s men filled the air around her._

_Brienne yelled for help. Yelled for them to stop. No one heard her. She tried to get to the scorpion, but as she turned to run towards it, the slipped in a river of blood. The blood of innocents and soldiers mingling together. She looked up to see Grey Worm marching towards her; spear in hand. Taking her by the hair, he marched her up the battlement. Brienne struggled, but looked down to see her wrists chained. As they reached the top and she looked out, scores of soldiers from various houses stood before the city. Then she saw him. Jaime._

_Jaime stepped forward hesitantly and yelled to her. Then he was running and she was falling. Falling and falling. Her body rolled through the air and she realized that he wasn’t going to get to her in time. She was going to die. Then she hit the ground._

Brienne awoke gasping for air. Moving to her knees, she collected herself before sitting back on her heels. She was in the dark confines of the black cells for just over a fortnight before anyone from Daenerys’ forces came to see her. Prior to the cell door swinging open violently for the first time since she was thrown in, the closest she had come to human interaction was stale bread and half-filled flagons of dirty water being flung through the door hatch. Unfortunately for Brienne, the next closest human interaction came from the shrill screams of the former queen, Cersei.

The woman was relentless in her complaints and demands to see the ‘false queen’. Brienne had half a mind to yell to her to shut up, but she worried doing so may only encourage the woman to redirect her incessant complaints and ire at Brienne. _Ugh the incessant talking. Certainly a Lannister trait. And here I thought an isolated existence before my imminent death was the worst it could get._

Drawing her attention to the door of her cell, a torch light came into view and Brienne’s eyes squeezed shut at the painful intrusion. From her seated position, she pivoted her head away from the flames. Slowly fluttering her lids open to acclimate to the light, Brienne locked eyes with Grey Worm. The man was cold as ever; eyes filled with little more than hate and anger. The Grey Worm whom Brienne came to know over the past moon turns was a stark contrast to the Grey Worm she met in Winterfell. The former seemed devoid of human emotion and empathy. The latter had been brave, honorable, and compassionate. In the aftermath of the battle with the dead, Brienne had trained with the man and observed the sadness in his eyes.

“I fail my men. I cover retreat and leave them stranded against dead men.” Brienne remembered her heart clenching at his words. _I lost men too. I lost friends_. “We all had to make difficult decision in the moment to ensure the battle won. Form what I’ve heard, you did an amazing job leading your men.” Grey Worm had cast a sad, appreciative smile at her before they resumed training outside the ruined walls.

_I don’t suppose he is here for such a conversation now._

“You ready confess? You ready pay for what you do?” Brienne wanted to laugh at the words. _Confess? As if it was a secret? As if all of King’s Landing didn’t see what I did? As if I didn’t intend to do it._ “I was hardly feigning innocence. Confession implies the correcting of an untruth or admitting a prior lack of transparency. What I did was intentional. The dragon was destroying everything and everyone. I killed the beast and I do not regret it. I killed Daenerys in the process, and I do not regret it.”

Without warning, Grey Worm moved forward and kicked Brienne in the face, knocking her backwards to the filthy cell floor. Brienne could immediately feel the blood dripping from her nose and her hand rang from at the impact.

“Tyrion want trial for you. Westerosi law. If you not die in trial, Unsullied and Dothraki will stay and make war. Kill all you people. You want Unsullied and Dothraki leave?”

Brienne inhaled loudly and looked the man in the eyes. “Yes, I want you to leave. Get on your ships and go home. Go wherever you want. Just leave the people alone. They are innocent in my actions. They have done no wrong.”

Grey Worm nodded in understanding. “Good. You want us leave. You give us you head. When you die. We leave.”

Brienne looked to the ground and closed her eyes; swallowing deeply. _It is more than a fair exchange. How could I not agree?_ Looking back to the Unsullied leader, Brienne nodded. “Fine. You kill me and take your revenge, but then you take your forces out of King’s Landing. Out of Westeros. Never return here and live out your days somewhere else.”

Grey Worm nodded. “You have Grey Worm promise. You die tomorrow. I come back then.”

As abruptly as he entered, Grey Worm was gone and with him all light, both literal and figurative. Brienne was not afraid of death. She hadn’t been for a long time. She was afraid of failing and letting down those she was charged with protecting. In the past that had been the Stark children, but under Jaime’s charge, that meant all innocents. If nothing else, Brienne felt good about her actions and understood the consequences of them. _At least I’ll die having finally done something worthwhile. I was never fit to do anything other than serve and die for a just cause._

Brienne worried for her father. _My first failing as a daughter was my inability to make a match. My septa was correct. He would have been better off with anyone else for a daughter. My second failing is leaving him without an heir. If only he hadn’t lost Gal an the twins._

Brienne worried about the Stark girls. _Will Pod protect them in my stead? Will they see the north finally safe from politics of the south? Is Arya alright? I have not seen her since the battle with the dead._

Brienne worried about Jaime. _He seemed so off in Winterfell. Lost and emotionally vulnerable. I fear that a world with Cersei in it is not safe for the Starks, but if Cersei is killed, I worry for Jaime. He will be devastated as the loss of his only love. Forever adrift without his soulmate to anchor him._

Then Brienne’s mind wandered to her own life. _Comical really. The best I’ve done is a fake marriage. No man has ever loved me. No man has ever lain with me nor kissed me. No man has ever touched me in a non-violent way save Jaime and even that was to maintain the pretense of our fake marriage._

But lack of love isn’t what saddened Brienne. She had long reconciled that she would never receive that. Instead she was saddened at the thought of having no one to miss her as a person or a knight. _A knight. The history books will never know me, but for a brief time I was a knight! They can’t take that memory from me. I wonder if anyone will notice my death. Surely, they will notice the Unsullied and Dothraki leave. I suppose that is most important. I shouldn’t bother indulging in selfish wants of remembrance._

Hours passed as Brienne played through memories from her life. Thoughts of things left unsaid and unfinished. In the distance, Brienne heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching. _Oh good. Time for my every other day ration of stale bread. I do hope this one isn’t harder than the cell walls._

Before she could shuffle closer to the door to await the offering, it swung open unexpectedly. Tyrion.

The younger Lannister stood before her, his eyes riddled with worry. “Lord Tyrion. Good evening. Or good morning. Or good afternoon. I don’t really know anymore.”

Tyrion offered a sad smile and moved into the cell, sitting against the wall opposite her. “Grey Worm tells me you’ve agreed to his terms. They mean to execute you on the morrow.”

Brienne nodded, but gave no further response. Tyrion sighed; irritation heavy in his ton. “You don’t need to do this! The only reason they haven’t killed you yet is my insistence on a trial by our laws. I told them that Daenerys herself was Westerosi and would have demanded it, even if she already knew the outcome and planned the execution method beforehand. It is only in her memory that they agreed to not kill you. Approached you with their absurd offer.”

Brienne sighed. “If I have a trial, who would be the judge? Do we even have a ruler yet? Mayhap Grey Worm could oversee the trial? He seems fond of me.”

Tyrion cut Brienne off from her sarcastic commentary. “No, we don’t have a ruler… yet. Varys felt it appropriate to call all noble families of the Great Houses for council. There aren’t many left, but I’m certain Sansa and Jaime will have left Winterfell at my missive. I sent it the day after the city fell. That should put them a fortnight out and they certainly won’t judge you guilty. Yara now rules the Iron Islands. She was an ally to Daenerys, but I think I can sway her if we offer independence to her people. Lord Aryn will side with Sansa. Lord Gendry will do whatever Arya tells him…”

“Arya!? Is she alive? Is she well?” Brienne’s chest filled with hope for the girl. Tyrion nodded and continued. “She had entered the city with the Hound in attempt to kill Cersei. Apparently, she had spent days before the city’s attack scouting the area and trying to figure out a way to get to Qyburn and kill him. Something about using his face? But the Mountain was always with him and she thought it best to await the attacks using that as a distraction to get to Cersei. She heard plans indicating she would have all guards save the Mountain at the city gates. Once Daenerys started destroying the city and the keep began to collapse, Arya fled. She is safe although she sustained minor injuries. She is currently trying to figure out how to get you and Jon out with my help, but these cells are too well guarded for one fighter alone and I’m of no use.”

Brienne shook her head violently. “No! Tell her to stay safe and leave. Don’t try to get me out. Just let them take my head and they will move out. They didn’t ask for Jon’s head if mine was given.”

Tyrion stood angrily. “Did you hear a word I said!? We are so close to getting you out. I just need more time. Once the great houses are here…”

Brienne couldn’t take it any longer. “Just stop! No more scheming. No more plans. No more games. Let it be over. They will go home if they kill me. One life means nothing compared to all of Westeros.”

Tyrion began pacing. “I promised I would watch over you. Keep you safe. You’re my goodsister! You’re…”

“Fake goodsister.” Brienne interrupted Tyrion’s words and looked at the man imploringly. “Please Tyrion. I know you mean well. I appreciate the effort, but it isn’t worth it. This is how it needs to be. I killed their queen.”

“And my brother killed his king! Should he be killed too?” Brienne huffed in irritation at Tyrion’s words before responding. “That’s hardly the same thing. Aerys had no allies left. No one to seek revenge. Daenerys’ forces won’t leave until they take theirs. If my head is what it takes than so be it. I don’t want them taking revenge on innocents.”

“Give me another day. Please. There has to be another way through this. Jaime will never forgive me for this. I will never forgive myself!” Tyrion was practically begging; his eyes beseeching her to see reason. Brienne only shook her head in refute.

“Jaime needs you to figure out a way to save Cersei. You should focus your energies there, but so help me Tyrion, by the Gods I will haunt you if whatever scheme you devise to save her for Jaime enables her to access the Stark girls!” 

Tyrion chuckled sardonically at her words. “Gods you’re as infuriating as my brother. You really think Cersei is what Jaime wants? _You_ are what he wants Brienne. Every ill-advised action. Every faltered word. Every longing look. They’re all for _you_. Losing you will destroy him!”

Brienne couldn’t take it anymore. _I don’t need his petty lies to make me feel better._ “Please just leave me be Tyrion.” She shook her head as if thinking away the young Lannister would make it so.

“Give me one more day. Please.” Tyrion’s voice was barely a whisper. Brienne stared back at the man and slowly shook her head in refute. “On your way out, do tell your sister to shut her mouth. I should like to spend my remaining time alive without a headache.”

Grey Worm came for her the next day.


	16. Jaime VII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For timeline context as it all gets confusing. In chapter 14 – Jaime and Sansa are at the Crossroads Inn and encounter the Lannister soldiers who have retreated. Given my fuzzy math on distance between King’s Landing and the Crossroads Inn, that puts the pair just shy of one week out from the capital and it would have taken the Lannister soldiers the same amount of time to get to the crossroads. So that means when Jaime and Sansa get to King’s Landing, it is about 10-13 days AFTER Dany goes ape and Brienne kills.  
> In chapter 15 – It is noted that it has been just over a fortnight (2 weeks) since the battle at King’s Landing. Lets call it 16 days. This is important to note as it means Jaime and Sansa have already been in the King’s Landing area for 3-6 days when Chapter 15 starts. The North and Wildlings were already in the King’s Landing area as they (in my mind) wouldn’t leave with Jon a prisoner. The Stormlands are quite close to King’s Landing and likely arrived around the same time as Jaime and Sansa.  
> The Eyre is not far from the Crossroads so they will also arrive maybe a day or two early. The only house cutting it down to the wire is the West. When you account for the message to arrive and to move on King’s Landing. I’ve got them likely arriving the day of Brienne’s planned execution. Bonus points as they were already prepared for defense given the assumption Dany would win and come for them.

Jaime awoke with a start covered in sweat. Another restless evening consumed by the same nightmare. Brienne on a platform. Brienne falling. Brienne hitting the ground. Stepping out of the tent to clear his mind, Jaime looked into the distance at King’s Landing. The sun was hours from rising and they would lay siege that morning.

When Jaime, Pod, and Sansa had first arrived, they were shocked at the vision before them. Smoke crept into the sky from the nearly leveled city below. Jaime had wanted to scream at the sight. _This is what I killed Aerys to prevent._

They camped on the outskirts of the city; just out of view from the Dothraki and Unsullied forces. In their letters, Sansa and Jaime instructed the arriving armies to converge just south of Hayford Castle to remain unseen by any lookouts or scouts.

The Stormlands had been first to arrive and Jaime had been glad of it. The last thing he needed were his bannermen watching him get pummeled from his, hopefully, future goodfather. There was after all the matter of explaining his fake marriage to Brienne.

Jaime had been overwhelmed by Selwyn. Easily the most physically imposing man Jaime had ever met, the Hound would have looked like a babe beside Lord Tarth. Selwyn was tall and broad of shoulders. He had piercing blue eyes that matched Brienne’s, but they were less emotive. His hair was shoulder length and the lightest shade of blonde without being able to pass for a Targaryen. Selwyn looked at Jaime as though he were a bug in need of squashing.

“What do you mean people think she is married to you!?” Jaime swallowed thickly and looked to Sansa in a silent plea for help, but the young wolf’s satisfied smirk at his anxiety was the only contribution she gave. “It wasn’t my best plan. I didn’t know how else to keep her safe from a marriage to that… wildling.”

Selwyn’s brows shot up at the words. “Rather convenient given the letters I received beseeching such an outcome for yourself.” Jaime felt his face redden and he again looked to Sansa who was now covering her mouth in a failed attempt to stifle a laugh. “I know the timing looks poor, but I swear it was only to help her.” Selwyn cast an unamused glance at the Jaime. “So, the entirety of the North and the very enemy we march upon think my daughter to be your wife?” Jaime nodded awkwardly in confirmation of the statement.

“And should she not wish to take your hand, you have put her in horrible position to make a match!” Jaime didn’t need to look to Sansa to know the look of ‘told you so’ would be writ across her face. “I will do whatever it takes to fix it! I will tell everyone that we did not consummate. I will…”

“Tell everyone you did not consummate or lie that you did not consummate? Did you touch my daughter!?” Jaime wanted to crawl into a hole and die. “No! No, Lord Tarth, I swear it. I didn’t! I would never…”

“I can guarantee you that he did not my lord. The day he invented the lie, he and Brienne were not together in private for a moment. The days preceding that he failed at every turn to express verbal affection let alone physical. I find him to be rather pathetic in that regard.” Sansa’s voice from his side was both welcome and irksome.

Selwyn cast one final glare at Jaime before abruptly storming out of the tent. Sansa approached slowly; amusement in her eyes. “Well that went well. I suspect you’re somewhere on his list of favorite people between Daenerys and the Unsullied.” Jaime rolled his eyes and turned to face Sansa fully. “You were no help at all! And I wasn’t pathetic in Winterfell. I was merely taking it slow. Very respectful and gentlemanly of me.” Sansa guffawed at his words. “Taking it slow!? Yes, I imagine at the rate you move, my grandchildren will be attending your wedding.”

Back in the present, Jaime stared at the ruined city before him. _I’m coming Brienne. Just a bit longer._ A sound in the distance broke Jaime’s revere. Jaime couldn’t mistake that sound for anything. The sound of an army approaching. _The West is here!_

Jaime ran towards a tent and pulled back the flap yelling urgently. “Bronn! Daven! Get up! Addam is here.” Bronn sat up hurriedly as though ready to spring into combat. “Fuck me! Where’s the bloody fire!” Daven merely grunted and rolled over in a bid to will Jaime away.

As Addam rode into camp, Jaime called the senior ranking members of the Lannister army into a war council to get them up to speed on the situation.

“We ride to the city gates in two hours’ time. That is how Daenerys positioned to attack the city so they would expect the same in return. We have over 5,000 men from the Stormlands, Vale, and North combined. That alongside our forces give us 8,000 men. I’ve been sending men from the north, vale, stormlands, and wildlings into the city secretly over the last two days via the city tunnels. They’re hiding in the homes of residents to form a surprise attack once the attention of Daenerys’ men is set on the threat outside the gates. We have already deployed nearly 1,000 men over the last two days through the city tunnels. Arya said the citizens are so desperate for aid in driving out the foreigners that they are happily hiding our soldiers in their homes until the attack is set to being.” Jaime paused to ensure his men understood the plan thus far.

“This morning we will deploy an additional group to enter and free both Jon and Ser Brienne from the cells before the fighting begins. Arya noted roughly 25 men guarding the black cells, so we’ll be sending in double that. Once we have Jon and Brienne, a signal will be sent to the men in the city to ring the bells. That is the signal for the attack to begin from outside and within. Our total numbers are more than double theirs. We should take the city without issue.”

Addam laughed and looked around the table. “Then what do you need us for? We near rode our horses into the ground after receiving your missive. I’ve never seen our bannermen ride so hard and so fast once they knew the Golden Lion of Lannister meant to take back the city and save the warrior woman who saved our bannermen’s lives.” The men around the table nodded in agreement with Daven speaking up. “She saved us truly. We’ll get them out cuz.”

Within an hour, Jaime and Sansa stood before the lines of men from their various houses and ran through the plans again. At the front of the lines, a Northman rolled his eyes at Jaime’s repeated reminder about waiting for the signal. He turned to one of his fellow officers and muttered loud enough for many to hear. “Fuckin’ Kingslayer acts like we don’t know how to fight. He’s the one with one hand that sees most of its time up ‘is own sister’s skirts.” Many of the Northmen and Wildlings within the vicinity began to laugh at the words and the other houses looked on in shock at the dissention.

“Enough!” Sansa’s voice cut through the air before Jaime had a chance to respond. She raised her voice loudly for all to hear. “When the dragon queen attacked the city, those of you from the north stood by and watched or joined in as innocents and surrendered soldiers were slaughtered. Some of those survivors stand beside you in Lannister colors; ready to fight by your side. Ser Brienne was the only one to stop the madness. She followed the example set by Ser Jaime some years prior. He killed Aerys to prevent the same fate from befalling this city. Aerys mean to burn King’s Landing to the ground with wildfire and like Ser Brienne, he is the only one who acted. He sacrificed his own reputation for it. The next Northman who utters the term ‘Kingslayer’ in a manner other than praise will feel northern justice and I’ll swing the sword myself. Be warned… my aim is not as strong nor swift as Arya. Now you will obey his command or by the Gods you will meet the Seven before the day is out. Do I make myself clear!?”

Silence fell over the lines of men, most of whom were slack jawed before a resounding response of “Aye!” filled the air. Jaime stood staring at the young woman in awe. He had to force himself to look down to hide the tears forming in his eyes. Before he could look up, he felt a small hand on his arm. Sansa.

“Ser Jaime. It is time to get our Queenslayer back.” Jaime smiled and nodded at the young woman. “Thank you” he said softly under his breath. Sansa gave a firm squeeze as she moved to stand beside the Northmen and Pod. Jaime gave the command to move out and towards the city. To his left was Sansa before the North. Lord Tarth to his right before the near 3,000 men he brought from the various Stormland houses. The Vale stood to the right of Lord Tarth and the Wildlings stood to the left of the Northmen.

Jaime felt Selwyn’s eyes on his face as they made their way towards the city. Turning slightly, he observed a look of confusion on the man’s face; Selwyn’s brows furrowed as if searching for something. “Yes, Lord Tarth?” At Jaime’s words, the older man shook his head and looked forward with a huff. “My father was Lord Tarth. I’m Selwyn.” The older man looked back at him “You truly love her then?” Jaime felt his neck redden knowing his closest advisors were right behind him; overhearing the conversation. Jaime was not embarrassed to admit his love for Brienne. He was embarrassed at the vulnerability that came with discussing his feelings. Jaime was a man of action. Words eluded him as was oft the case around Brienne. He felt like a bumbling idiot every time he needed to verbally express an emotion. Jaime also knew he wasn’t good enough for Brienne and he didn’t want to broadcast what he believed should be an unrequited love.

“Seems an understatement, but yes. With everything I have.” Selwyn seemed pleased with the answer and hummed. “Good. Lets hope then that she is a far better judge of character than I.” From behind him, Jaime could hear Bronn snickering. “Ya ‘ear that lover boy? Got dad’s approval. Now ya just need to grow a pair and talk to ya lady.”

Addam and Daven snickered at the words. “Lets get ya lady cuz! Two knights and kingslayers. Never was a better pair.” Addam chimed in immediately. “You might have competition friend. She sounds more than exciting. You know how I love exciting women.” Jaime glared back at his childhood friend who smirked at Jaime’s obvious jealousy.

Selwyn laughed beside them. “Maybe my problem was trying to make a match in the Stormlands. Seems the West prefer their women tall and fierce.” The Lannister men within earshot whistled loudly and clapped in affirmation.

As they approached the gates of King’s Landing, the city was eerily quiet. The outer gate was completely destroyed and much of the vast expanse of the battlements had fallen. Then Jaime heard the roar of voices. Unsullied and Dothraki cheering and screaming. Their allied forces stood just before the city walls as the Northmen described Daenerys had done and Jaime watched in horror as a small group of Unsullied tugged someone along behind them towards a small section of platform that remained on the left side of the dilapidated outer wall. _Brienne_.

Brienne was chained at the wrists and was pulled to stand between Grey Worm and another Unsullied guard. Four Unsullied stood behind them at the rear of the rickety platform. A vicious smile tugged at Grey Worm’s lips as he lifted his arms to cease the cheers and screams from the Dothraki and Unsullied below.

“This woman kill our queen! She is traitor! Now she die like they kill Missandei.” At his words, the groups of Unsullied and Dothraki stationed inside the castle walls and looking up began cheering and screaming again.

Jaime felt his heart beating wildly. _This isn’t the plan. She is mean to be in the cells_. “Grey Worm! You don’t need to do this. Let her go. Take me instead. You know your queen hated me more than her.” Jaime spoke rapidly hoping the man would hear his plea and take the offer.

Grey Worm sneered at Jaime. “She make deal! We take her head and we leave. You wife will die and you watch!” At his words, the Dothraki screams rose again in excitement and the Unsullied began stamping their spears in unison.

Jaime looked to Brienne whose head was downcast. Assessing the situation, Jaime saw Grey worm frequently looking back to his men below to enjoy in the sights and sound of their planned revenge. The Unsullied to Brienne’s side stood rigid; eyes cast forward. _He is junior_. On the man’s left hip was a dagger.

“Brienne!” Jaime’s tone was imploring and he watched as Brienne raised her head to look at him. When their eyes met from a distance, he slowly touched his hand to his left hip and tilted his head in the direction of the guard at her side, hoping she would understand. _Take the dagger Brienne. Please_. “Do you remember how I got to you in the bear pit?” Even from a distance, he could see Brienne’s eyes flash and look to the man’s hip. _Thank the Gods_. As Grey Worm began to turn his shoulders forward again; a smug smile still on his lips, Jaime screamed. “Now!”

Jaime took off into a full sprint. He had opted to forgo his armor that morning. He didn’t know why at the time, but the dreams that plagued him seemed too prophetic to ignore. He had to be lighter. He had to be faster. His eyes never left Brienne as he ran. Her chained wrists instantly moved to the guard’s hip and in one swift motion, she unsheathed the man’s dagger and cut across his neck. Blood sprayed everywhere. At her rapid movement, Grey Worm and the other guards moved to attack, but she ducked and spun off the platform. _Faster. Faster. Please legs_.

As Brienne fell towards the ground below, Jaime slid to his knees and extended his arms.


	17. Brienne V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne POV on her attempted rescue and the following battle.

Brienne hung her head as she was pulled and pushed past the throngs of Unsullied and Dothraki huddled in the ruined streets of King’s Landing. They shouted and spat at her. Shoved her and threw things at her. The smell wafting through the streets was nauseating and Brienne had to fight the bile rising in her throat. Casting a sideways glance, Brienne was dismayed to see rubble still piled in the streets and rotting bodies pushed to the sides of buildings. _It has been over a fortnight. How have they done nothing to address the destruction!?_

As they neared the city gate, or what remained of it, Brienne saw Grey Worm standing before the fallen battlement; rubble piled high and charred pieces of platform destroyed by the dragon’s fiery breath. Brienne heard her heart pounding in her ears. The screams, taunts, and jeers from the men around her drowned out as the sound of her own breathing clouded her mind. As the guards at her sides approached their commander, Grey Worm gave a nod and spoke something in Valyrian to the guard at her left. The man began yanking her up the pile of rubble towards a piece of platform that remained above. _Gods. What are they going to do to me?_

At several points being dragged up the rubble, Brienne stumbled and smashed her calf onto the jumbled stone. She could feel her skin split open on one fall and blood pooled down her breeches into her boot. As they neared the top, Brienne’s eyes caught sight of a massive army below. Her eyes saw the Tarth sigil and her heart accelerated to a new level. _Gods, they mean to kill me in front of my father. In front of my people. Is this why they waited? Was this planned? Is my father ashamed?_

Then Brienne’s eyes darted to the other ranks. Northmen, the Vale, Wildlings, and the West. Jaime. The platform jutted out awkwardly over the chaotic mass of stones previously holding up the battlement. Every step on the rickety platform sent loud creaks into the air. Looking up slightly, Brienne could see sections of the battlement that had not fallen; roughly 4 stories above where she now stood.

Brienne looked down at her feet ashamed to see any sign of judgement in her father’s face. In Sansa’s face. In Jaime’s face. _Do they know the full story? Do they know I had no other option?_ Brienne mused how Westeros’ judgement of her actions may be similar to Jaime’s. _Are my actions to be misunderstood and judged falsely as his were? So be it. I will die knowing I did my best to keep the innocents safe._

Then Grey Worm spoke; half at his men and half at the forces outside the gate. “This woman kill our queen! She is traitor! Now she die like they kill Missandei.” _Oh Gods. They are to behead me on this platform. What a fitting revenge._ Then Brienne heard Jaime’s voice and the subsequent exchange with Grey Worm. With her head still cast down, Brienne peered through her lashes at her father, the forces, and Jaime. It suddenly hit Brienne. _They mean to save me. Gods, no more death. They should let this end with my head._

“Brienne!” At Jaime’s voice, Brienne’s head snapped up. Her eyes locked on his and she watched his subtle tilt of the head. Jaime pointing to the hip. “Do you remember how I got to you in the bear pit?” She understood immediately. Casting her eyes to the guard at her left, she saw the dagger. Her mind raced with images of Jamie jumping into a bearpit for her. She quickly assessed the height of the platform. Gods I’m living my dream. He’ll never get to me in time. It is too far. Too high. He can’t be serious. Then Jaime screamed “Now!” and took off into a full sprint. Brienne had little time to yell for him to stop. Let it be.

Jaime was rapidly nearing and in a single swift motion, Brienne reached with her chained hands for the guard’s dagger. Images of Jaime having done the same with her own sword many years ago on that fateful day in the Riverlands. Unsheathing the dagger, the guard had no time to react. No time to register what was happening. She slit his neck in one arched motion and ducked low as if rolling off the platform in a smooth spinning motion. She plummeted towards the ground; almost 20 feet below. The last thing Brienne remembered feeling was the sensation of Jaime’s arms under her and her neck being whipped backwards at the impact of their collision.

Brienne’s eyes slowly opened to the cloudy image of blue skies and passing clouds. She was in someone’s arms and being rushed somewhere. Her neck throbbed in pain and her left side felt like lead. Then a voice she couldn’t mistake filled her ears. “I’ve got you child. Stay with me.” _Father_.

Brienne felt herself being lowered to the ground. The hazy image of Sansa came into view. The two spoke in urgent tones before a third and fourth image blotted out any remaining view of the sky above. “Is she OK!?” _Pod_. Then a voice Brienne couldn’t place. “The fall was far. Could have killed them both if their bodies collided differently. I think she dislocated her shoulder and I couldn’t see her head, but no doubt the force alone caused the blackout.”

“Brienne? Brienne, can you hear me?” _Sansa_. Brienne tried to speak, but the words came out in a mess of grunts. She tried to move her head to nod, but pain flooded her body. A piercing headache overtook her and Brienne squinted slightly. Then the man she couldn’t recognize spoke again. “She can hear us and is semiconscious. That is a good sign. We need to keep her laying down.”

_Jamie. Where is Jaime?_

In the distance, Brienne could make out the distinct sound of war. Battle cries and screams of death. She wanted to get up. She wanted to help. She wanted to fight. As if on instinct, Brienne tried to sit up but was promptly held down by multiple hands. “Stop moving stubborn girl! Rest!” _Father_. Brienne’s vision slowly came more into focus with every passing minute.

Her head was throbbing, and she could feel someone poking and prodding at her. Then the previously, unrecognizable voice and face came into view. _Sam_. “Yes, it is definitely the shoulder. I need to reset it right away before the area swells. Lord Tarth, I need you to hold her here. Pod, hold her there.” Brienne felt her body being shifted and her left arm being manipulated into an odd position. Suddenly, an intense pressure and searing pain filled her body. Brienne cried out and a dizziness washed over her. She blacked out again.

Sam leaned down near Brienne’s head and spoke to her unconscious form. “I’m sorry ser. You won’t thank me for it now, but I had to do that.” As Brienne lay there, Sam checked her legs, hips, and ribs.

Sam looked to Sansa and Selwyn. “The force of the fall must have caused her neck to whip back. It appears sprained based her earlier movements and grimaces. She also hit the ground hard on the second impact. It is likely the cause of her blackout. Well… the first blackout. This blackout is likely from the pain. Her injuries seem isolated to her upper body. She will be fine but needs rest.” Sam jogged off to prepare for other injured soldiers to slowly retreat.

Brienne came too again and found herself flat on the back with an intense, pulsing pain in her shoulder. More and more of the scene around her came into focus. Her father’s worried face. Sansa’s frantic glances around them. Pod’s nervous pacing. Brienne wanted to sit up and see what was happening, but she found it too painful to move of her own volition.

“What is going on? Jaime?” She finally choked out the words and all three heads turned to look at her. Selwyn huffed and locked eyes with her; worry writ on his face. “The boy is truly reckless! You two are quite the pair. He insisted on going back out to battle.” _What!?_

Sansa sighed and moved closer to Brienne. “Your fall was quite bad Brienne. Jaime absorbed the initial impact, but the force of your fall pulled you both forward forcibly. You landed on your left side and Jaime’s body atop yours with his arms under you. Jaime had the wind knocked out of him. Sam assessed him earlier. He has a broken rib or two and a bad strain to his right arm. He was quite dizzy, but never lost consciousness. His men got him to safety before the Unsullied and Dothraki got to both of you. Your father carried you here.”

Brienne was in shock at the words. She tried to move to a seated position, but another white-hot pain flashed through her body. All three tried to hold her down, but Brienne grew frustrated. “No. Let me sit up.” Sansa and Selwyn exchanged irritated looks, but slowly helped her move to a seated position. Brienne’s neck and shoulder troubled her the most. Both felt like dead weight. She took a steadying breath and tried to turn her head slowly. The motion hurt but was possible which set Brienne’s mind at ease.

“Pod. Please get Sam. He’ll want to see Brienne.” Sansa commanded the young man who took off quickly to find the unofficial maester. “The city. What is happening?” Brienne looked to Selwyn and Sansa while limiting motion in her neck.

Sansa spoke again. “From what we can see, the battle is petering out. Our forces are too many and theirs too few. The surprise attack from inside the city proved to be their undoing. They found themselves caught defenseless between two attacking groups.”

Brienne felt relief wash over her. “And Jon?” Sansa shook her head; an uncertain look taking hold of her facial features. “Arya led a contingent into the city tunnels to attempt rescue in the black cells. We haven’t seen them yet. Davos has been helping smuggle our men in and out of the city over the past two days. He took Arya and her group over this morning.”

Sam returned with Pod at his heels. “Ser Brienne good to see you awake and sitting up. How do you feel?” _How do I feel? I fell from a building._ “I can’t say I’m feeling my best, although I’m happy to find my head still attached.”

Sam beamed at her. “Excellent! Well… not the pain and near beheading bit. More that you’re cognizant and talking again.”

Brienne wanted to roll her eyes, but everything hurt too much. Then in the distance, she heard the cries of victory. It wasn’t the victory cries of the North nor the West. No cries of the Vale nor the Stormlands. They were the victory cries of Westeros.

“Thank the Gods! Its over.” Sansa’s words were as much a prayer of thanks as a statement. Selwyn squeezed Brienne’s shoulder and stood to look out into the distance; a small smile tugging at his lips. Sansa moved to stand as well before both turned to help Brienne to her feet. Brienne found the new position dizzying, but much welcome given limited mobility in her neck and her desire to see what was happening. Selwyn looped a supportive arm around her as they looked out at the throngs of men celebrating. To see Northmen and Lannister bannermen hugging and clapping each other's shoulders was a most bizarre sight.

From the masses crowding together just below their vantage point on the small hill, Brienne saw a small group emerge and sprinting towards them. _Jaime_. As the neared, Brienne could see they were covered in blood and ash; the latter likely kicked up from the city streets during the war. Jaime seemed to be favoring his side, a grimace etched on his face. Before she could open her mouth to speak, Jaime came crashing into her. A mess of limbs wrapping around her. His tone laced with fatigue and relief as he spoke into her ear. “Brienne.” 


	18. Sansa V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa walks through the city and reflects on things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter was very difficult for me to write - especially as a mother myself. It details the horrors of what happened to people in King's Landing and the state of all the innocents bodies.

It took everything in Sansa to not grab Jaime by the ear and tear him away from Brienne. His crushing embrace was certainly not listed in Sam’s recommended healing tactics. Sansa mused that Sam should have been more prescriptive in his instructions for Brienne’s recovery. _Laydown. Rest. No physical labor. Avoid suffocating embraces from man head over heels in love with you._

With a long sigh, Sansa reminded herself that Jaime had last fast weeks in a state of constant panic thinking he lost the most important person in his life. _Fine. I suppose I’ll let it go. It is rather romantic I suppose… marching south, amassing an army of 8,000, pulling off quite the dramatic catch, and leading a siege while injured, all to save the love of your life. Damn him appealing to my irrational romantic side._

With a light pat to his arm, Jaime pulled back slightly from his firm hold on Brienne to observe Sansa’s reprimanding gaze. “I don’t know if you noticed, but she took quite the fall. Perhaps we don’t crush what parts of her body remain intact.” Despite her words, Sansa found she couldn’t maintain the false scorn on her face and a smile tugged at her lips.

Jaime scoffed “Forgive me for not noticing. I couldn’t tell from my vantage point underneath her.” Sansa’s brows rose and a mocking smile spread rapidly. “Back to serving _under_ her I see.” From beside Jaime, Sansa heard Selwyn and Jaime’s men speaking at length about the happenings in the city. It was Ser Addam’s voice that cut through Sansa’s banter with Jaime.

“…and then he dragged the man atop the battlement and beheaded him!” Sansa’s head snapped to Addam at the words. “I’m sorry what!? Who was beheaded?” It only took a fleeting glance at Jaime who looked rather triumphant to know he was involved.

“I though Grey Worm might enjoy the view from atop the platform. And he did. He truly lost his mind taking in the sight.” Jaime’s smile was cutting and Brienne’s mouth dropped at the words. “You… you beheaded him?”

Daven eagerly interjected. “The moment this man entered the fray, he was cutting a path straight for Grey Worm and the fucker seemed to be doing the same towards Jaime. They started with weapons in hand, but soon it was a fist fight. I guess it helps to have a gold brick attached to your right arm; even if your right arm has lame with injury. Grey Worm was half conscious as Jaime dragged him up the rubble and cut off his head.”

Sansa felt a flash of pride and Selwyn seemed more than pleased, but Brienne’s face twisted in horror at the words. “Jaime. Why?” Jaime looked to the ground sheepishly, trying to compose himself as Daven and Addam snickered. “Why? The man threatened to behead our Lady of the Rock.” Addam chuckled as he said the words. Jaime gritted his teeth and spat at his friend. “Do shut up Addam.”

Brienne looked pained at the exchange. “I thank you all for saving my life and I don’t know what you heard, but Ser Jaime and I are not wed.” Jaime’s face fell and before his men could continue, it was Selwyn who spoke. “Daven and Addam is it?” The men corrected their posture and gave a nod of affirmation. “Mayhap you would walk with me and finish recounting the battle. I should like to see my men since I was unable to fight beside them. Ser Jaime, I trust you can ensure my daughter’s safety and recovery here?”

Jaime gave an appreciative look at Selwyn and Sansa took that as her cue to leave. “I need to find Arya and Jon. I will see you both later.” Turning on her heel, Sansa cast one final look back at the pair. Brienne looked confused by everyone’s sudden departure and Jaime was standing there like a fool gawking at her. _By the seven let this man find his words or I’ll beat him over the head with his golden hand myself._

Sansa walked towards the city before her. The closer she got, the worse the smell became. Stepping through the space where once stood the massive archway to the city, Sansa inhaled sharply as she took in the sight before her. Less shocking to see were the freshly deceased bodies of the Unsullied, Dothraki, and many of their allied forces. More shocking was the state of King’s Landing and its people.

Citizens were milling about, helping tend to the injured Westerosi. The were blind to the house sigils on the soldiers’ chests and gave nothing but comfort and care. The cries of the dying reached her ears and the screams for help as soldiers and citizens alike partnered to carry the wounded into makeshift treatment areas.

At first glance, the city seems covered in a layer of snow, but Sansa knew it for what it truly was. Ashes. Ashes of the charred wood from buildings. Ashes from merchants’ wares. Ashes of the scorched bodies of innocents. It was a living nightmare.

Sansa kept walking towards the keep and her attention was drawn to the rotting carcasses stacked carelessly along the exterior walls of buildings right outside people’s homes. Dead men and dead women who likely spent the morning conducting business and running errands for their households. Dead children whose last moments were likely filled with terror and panic. Dead babies. Sansa’s progress forward halted abruptly at the vision of a woman’s body clutching her babe to her chest. Both heavily burnt and a look of sheer agony on the corpse’s face.

Bile rose in Sansa’s throat. Daenerys was a woman who was espoused the importance of “breaking the wheel”. Of taking her rightful place to free people from the tyranny of unworthy lords. She burned them. Burned them all.

The thought immediately brought Jaime and Brienne to mind. Jaime. The man who saved an entire city from this very fate. Who never once received thanks for saving the city and its people from this very scene. Who only ever received the scorn and hate from all of Westeros; branding him an oathbreaker. Kingslayer. Man without honor.

Brienne. The woman who stopped the madness. Who saved hundreds of thousands from the same fate as the bodies laid out before Sansa now. How many more would have died? Arya had estimated one-third of the city lost. So roughly three hundred thousand Brienne saved. What would Westeros say about her?

Sansa resolved in that moment that she would make it her life’s mission to ensure everyone in Westeros knew what those two knights did to protect the innocent. To protect Westeros from Targaryen madness. On the journey south, Sansa thought Jon should take his rightful place as heir. Now Sansa wasn’t certain if Westeros truly needed another Targaryen ruler. Of course, Jon was nothing like Aerys nor Daenerys, but maybe Westeros needed a clean start. Sansa was at a loss for where to go from here.

As Sansa’s thoughts turned back to the deceased, the enormity of it all hit her. Falling to her knees, Sansa began to weep. In her youth, this city had been the emotional equivilant of the seven hells. Cersei tormented her. Joffrey tortured her. Soldiers abused her. In this city, she watched her father’s head leave his shoulders. She received news of her mother’s and brother’s deaths. Now this city was the physical representation of the seven hells.

A hand touched her shoulders and jolted her. Looking up, she saw Tyrion’s soft eyes and sad smile looking down at her. “Lady Sansa. Are you alright?” Sansa extended her arms pointing to the scene around her. “Look at this Tyrion. Look what your dragon queen has done.”

Tyrion’s shoulders hunched in; shame evident in the man’s face. He looked away to collect himself before responding. “I’ve walked these streets everyday since the siege. I still can’t believe the scene before my eyes. It’s truly horrifying. King’s Landing and its people will never be the same. The soldiers who fought that day and lived to tell the tale will never be the same. Seven hells, there is a decaying dragon carcass in the middle of the damn city!”

Sansa’s eyes widened at horror at the thought. “No one moved it? No one moved all these bodies!? No one started to rebuild!?” Tyrion’s eyes fluttered shut at her words. “Daenerys’ forces wouldn’t let anyone and they would do nothing to rectify those matters. The believed the people deserved this. To them, keeping the city in this condition was their form of punishment. That was… until they took Brienne from the cells. That was to be their ultimate revenge before leaving.”

Sansa looked into Tyrion’s eyes and saw immense pain. “I made an error in judgement of epic proportions. One of many miscalculations and blunders over the past year or two. I used to think myself clever. Now I feel more the part of a court jester.”

Sansa reached her hand to Tyrion’s shoulder. “I took her aid in the North and fueled her hate with my lack of appreciation for her forces. I made a pact with the Stranger himself and did nothing to stop this either. Thankfully the fools that we are have our knights to keep us all safe.” At Sansa’s words, a flash of hope flooded Tyrion’s eyes.

“My brother!? Brienne!? They are both safe then? From my position in the keep during battle, I could only see your forces approach. That is what prompted Grey Worm to retrieve Brienne for execution. They had planned on waiting until midday, but we saw you approach in the distance. Then I saw them drag her atop the rundown section of battlement. I saw Jaime running and her falling, but I couldn’t see below. Then chaos broke out.”

Sansa smiled softly at her former husband. “They are both well. Well… as well as can be expected given the circumstances. He caught her Tyrion. I don’t know how, but he did. It was strange. They seemed to have this silent conversation pass between them. Then Jaime told her, without directly telling her, what to do. When I saw her falling, I thought her dead. I’ve never held my breath like that in my life. It was such an incredible sight to behold. I mean most people say they fall in love, but I think it is altogether ridiculous how literal those two fools of ours have taken it!”

Tyrion chuckled at her words and his joy couldn’t help but uplift her own spirts even there, in the streets, surrounded by death and destruction. “Yes, they are our two fools. Our burden to bare. Where are they? I should like to see them?”

Sansa felt her smile widen. “You will. For now, I think it best we leave them alone.” Tyrion’s face lit up at her words. “Well I do hope you and I will have a real wedding to plan when all is said and done. I’m tired of making only plans for war.”

At the thought of wedding plans, the thought of family flooded Sansa’s mind. “Tyrion! Have you seen Arya or Jon? I came in here to find them and got so distracted.”

Tyrion extended a hand to help Sansa to her feet. “I have just the surprise for you then. They are in the keep. Poor Davos was injured by an Unsullied as he tried to smuggle another group in during the fighting. Jon and Arya have been with him in the keep. The Onion Knight will be fine. Just a precaution.”


	19. Jaime VIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our two knights FINALLY talk. With actual words.

Jaime couldn’t take his eyes off Brienne as confusion flooded her face when Sansa, Selywn, Addam, and Daven left in a hurry. _Alright stay calm. Sansa said don’t fuck this up. How do I do that? She should have been more specific._

“How are you feeling?” _Seven hells. Dumb question. I’m off to a shit start_. Brienne looked back to him and sighed deeply. “I’m quite sore, but given the alternative, I much prefer feeling sore to being dead. I… thank you. For saving me. Again.”

Jamie felt his lips curve into a smile. His heartrate picked up and his mind was a swirl of thoughts trying to find the best place to start. Before he could continue, Brienne spoke again. “I’m sorry that your men found out about the lie. I hope it doesn’t get back to Cersei. Did you find her? She was in the cells too.”

Jaime’s brows furrowed in confusion. _Cersei? I hadn’t even thought about her_. “I hadn’t given any real thought to her. I was quite preoccupied focusing on the safety of someone far more important to me.” Jaime smiled hoping Brienne understood the implication. If her facial expression was any indication, she did not.

“Ummm… do you want to walk or are you in too much pain? Would you rather sit?” Jaime scratched his head with his good hand and looked around in attempt to find a secluded place to talk. _Where would we even walk to? There is nothing but dead bodies and destruction_. Brienne began to shrug her shoulders, but pain flashed across her face.

“A walk would do I suppose. Perhaps not through the city though. I’m not quite ready to see more of that yet.” The unease was writ all over her face. Images of watching Aerys burn men alive flooded Jaime’s mind, but strangely they seemed insignificant compared to what Brienne had witnessed. _She lived the nightmare I slayed a king to avoid_.

“Right. Lets walk towards the water. I could use a different view as well.” The pair moved slowly, both straining from injury as they moved towards the southeastern section of the outer city walls abutting the Blackwater. In the distance, Jaime spotted a pier that remained untouched from the attack on the city. Taking Brienne’s right hand in his left, Jaime guided them towards the small dock which he supposed was likely used for smaller vessels making their way up the river from the main port further to the east.

It was low tide, so the pair were able to sit on the edge of the modest pier and swing their legs over the side. Sitting down proved quite the struggle for both. With his adrenaline from battle faded, Jaime was certainly feeling the pain in his ribs and the strained bicep of his right arm. It was also becoming apparent how fatigued and sore his body felt. _Gods I’m getting old. I can’t do this anymore._ Brienne had only her right arm to help lower herself to a seated position as her left arm folded protectively across her stomach in a bid to keep the shoulder motionless.

Looking to Brienne at his left, Jaime watched as the ocean breeze kissed her hair and blew stray locks back from her face. Likely on account of her injury, she looked straight ahead with little effort to move her neck to the left or right. _Perhaps it is best she isn’t looking at me for this. I might lose my courage_.

Jaime sucked in a deep, steadying breath and held his gaze on her face. “I lied to you about some things.” _Well that got her attention_. Brienne tried to turn her head towards Jaime, but the movement sent another jolt of pain through her body. With a grimace, Brienne turned back forward and closed her eyes.

Jaime quickly pulled his legs up from their position dangling over the dock and turned to face Brienne. Sitting cross-legged before her, Jaime moved to grab her right leg in a bid to get her to face him. Slowly, Brienne moved her body to face Jaime; her seating position mirroring his own. Jaime shuffled his body closer so that their knees were touching, and he lifted her chin with his left hand.

When her sapphire pools met his, Jaime took another deep breath before continuing. “That lie about our marriage to save you from Tormund. Not all of the story was a lie. Tyrion did in fact catch me on the way to the rookery that night. I sent a letter to your father.”

Jaime paused to see Brienne’s brows furrow in confusion, her back straightened at his words and her shoulders pulled back slightly. “The truth is that I came to Winterfell because… because of you. Not just because you reprimanded me in the Dragon Pit although that helped.” Jaime’s eyes briefly broke from Brienne as he chuckled at the memory. Then he looked back to her. “I came because I am in love with you. I couldn’t bear the thought you facing death without me at your side. And… I stayed in Winterfell because of you.”

Brienne’s face twisted into shock at his words and her mouth flapped open like a fish being dropped on dry land. “I wrote your father seeking his blessing to ask for your hand… if you’ll have it. Just the one to be clear. I’m short a second.” Jaime tried to lighten the mood, but his chuckle came out nervous and clipped. Jaime’s legs started bouncing nervously and he watched Brienne bite her lip and look down. _Gods say something wench. Curse me or kiss me or call me a liar. Something_.

Brienne slowly lifted her head to meet his eyes. “Did a brick hit you on the head during the siege? You can’t be serious. I mean. You’re you and I, unfortunately, am me.”

Jaime felt slapped by the words. “You can question whatever you wish about my words, but don’t question your worth and how amazing you are.”

“Jaime, really.” Brienne began to protest again, but Jaime’s left hand moved to her face and he leaned in to press his lips to hers. Brienne pulled back slightly in shock, her lips parting, and Jaime took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. When she didn’t immediately protest, Jaime moved his right arm around her back in a bid to move her closer, but a searing pain shot through his arm and he jumped back slightly at sharpness of it. Clutching his arm with his good hand, he cursed in frustration. “Fucking hells this isn’t how I pictured this conversation going.”

Brienne’s eyes and mouth were wide with shock as Jaime looked back at her. “I just… I’m sorry. If you don’t feel the same way, I will leave you be. I’ll tell everyone the truth of the fake marriage. I’ll do whatever I can to make it right by you, Brienne. I swear it. I just really wanted to know…” Jaime inhaled deeply and reached for her hand. “If you would marry me.”

Jaime’s heart was racing as he stared into Brienne’s eyes. When she didn’t immediately respond, Jaime felt his nerves kick into overdrive, and he started doing what he does best. Prattling on. “I know I don’t have much to offer. I am just a disgraced knight with one hand. I don’t even technically have a home. I gave up my right to the Rock long ago. I suppose the Rock would be Tyrion’s. No… that can’t be right. My father disowned him. Well, then he killed my father. I guess it would be go to my aunt, although she is technically a Frey…”

“Do shut up!” Jaime’s eyes snapped to Brienne’s face. He watched as she took a steadying breath. “I… would make a terrible wife you know. I don’t know the first thing about womanly duties.” Jaime huffed. “Good.”

“And I don’t like sitting about hosting luncheons and tea parties.” Jaime felt a smile spreading. “Even better.”

“And I don’t like wearing dresses befitting noble ladies.” Jaime chuckled “Nor do I.”

Brienne narrowed her eyes at him, but then Jaime watched as they softened slightly. “but… I. I do love you too.. that is.” Jaime felt as though his heart would burst out of his chest with joy. His back straightened and a wide smile broke out across his face as Brienne nervously looked everywhere but him. “And… if this is not a jape… I would like to marry you.”

With all consideration for his broken ribs and torn bicep pushed into the far recesses of his mind, Jaime lunged forward and captured Brienne’s lips with his. The momentum sent them both falling onto the dock; Jaime’s hand cradling the back of Brienne’s head to catch her fall and his body falling atop hers. He swallowed her protests and pained cry with his mouth while muttering an apology against her lips. Moving his hand out from between her head and the pier, Jaime cupped her cheek as he kissed her more passionately. Much to Jaime’s delight, she kissed him back this time. Jaime felt his cock start to harden and strain against his breeches as they got lost in one another. Then a voice cut through the air.

“I knew ya were fuckin’!” _Fucking hells! I will run that idiot through with my sword!_ Jaime begrudgingly backed off Brienne and helped her back to a seated position. Her right hand rubbed her neck and shoulder as her face flamed with embarrassment. Jaime felt his own face flush as he looked away and sucked in a deep, steadying breath.

“Bronn. What the fuck do you want? Is now _really_ the time?” Bronn laughed at Jaime’s flustered state. “Better me comin’ down to give ya the news than Daddy Tarth. They found Jon. Ya brother is lookin’ to call all ya fancy folk together in the keep while the armies start fixin’ the shit ya broke.”

Brienne moved to stand, but Jaime didn’t move. Both Bronn and Brienne looked expectantly at Jaime for him to get up and move towards the keep. Jaime felt his face redden more into what he imagined could only rival the crimson of the Lannister banners. “Just… give me a moment.”

Bronn let out a loud guffaw and doubled over, holding his gut with his hand. “Ah fuck me that is bloody fantastic. Glad it still works.” Jaime wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Luckily Brienne came to his rescue, the knight in shining armor that she was. “From what Pod has to say, you should be more worried about yours falling off from disease.” 

Jaime snorted and cast an appreciative smile at her as he composed himself and slowly stood. Discreetly covering his tented breeches with his hands. Bronn only chuckled more as he turned to leave. Walking back to the castle and with his _situation_ under control, Jaime glanced sideways at Brienne and slipped his hand into hers. A small smile tugged at her lips and every part of Jaime wanted to skip out on the bloody meeting with his brother to spend the rest of the day planning out his life with Brienne.

As they made their way towards the keep, Jaime bit back the gasp threatening to escape his lips at every turn. The city was decimated. Those who remained living within the capital were like ghosts drifting over the ashes of their loved ones. Bodies were carelessly stacked to the sides.

Looking back to Brienne, her eyes were fixed on the castle in the distance and she refused to look around, but her eyes were shining with tears. _She had to live this nightmare. Now she is reliving it all over._

“What you did for this city Brienne was the most incredible thing I’ve ever heard. My men who were here think you a God. A savior.” Jaime watched as Brienne’s eyes glanced at him before looking back ahead. “I did nothing so special. Only what you charged me with. I happen to know someone quite well who saved the city from this not even a lifetime ago.”

Jaime tightened his hold on her hand and hoped she understood that if anyone understood the nightmare they were walking through, it was him. Entering the keep, Jaime felt Brienne move to reclaim her hand, but he held it tighter and pulled it to him. “Can’t a man hold his betrothed’s hand?” His tone was light, but saying the words out loud made his heart skip a beat. The realization seemed to hit Brienne at the same time. “Betrothed.” Jaime heard her say in a barely audible whisper. Her lips tugged into a small smile as their eyes met.

Nearing the group awaiting them, Jaime watched as Sansa’s brows raised slightly and a smile spread across her face. She moved closer to stand next to them and whispered to Jaime. “So, you did not entirely fuck it up I see.” Jaime bit back a laugh and nodded. “Not entirely.”

Sansa clapped her hands excitedly and the young woman’s reaction drew the attention of the group. “Oh, Gods this is going to be so much fun! Ugh I do hope your children have Brienne’s personality. Brienne, by the Gods, this man did not shut up once! The only time he shut up was to put on his best impersonation of Jon. It was awful.”

Jaime scoffed. “I wasn’t that bad!” Sansa cast the most aghast look his way. “You can’t be serious.” Before Jaime could give her a hard time, Selwyn stepped forward and looked to the couple’s knitted hands. He raised a mock smile to Brienne.

“Can he beat you in a fight?”

Brienne smirked at her father. “No, but he can save me in one.”


	20. Brienne VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne tries to make it through a meeting and then enjoys a bath.

“I meant what I told Sansa, I don’t want it.” Jon was growing increasingly irritated and the meeting was getting nowhere. Brienne’s head was pounding and all she wanted to do was lay down in a real bed. _No, first I want to eat something other than stale bread. Then I want to sleep for days._

They had been at it for over an hour. Sitting in a makeshift council in what was formally the map room, Brienne sat at a round table between Selwyn and Jaime. Jaime was to her right as he absolutely refused to let go of her hand. Sansa sat to Jaime’s right and Tyrion next to her. To her father’s left sat Davos who looked as bad as Brienne felt. Jon was next to Davos and Tormund next to Jon.

Much of the meeting had consisted of Tyrion and Sansa imploring Jon to take his rightful place as heir to the Iron Throne. Jon’s resolve was strong; “I don’t want it.” and “I don’t know how to rule”. _At least he is consistent._ Why Tormund sat through the meeting was beyond Brienne’s comprehension. His only contribution was commenting about what silly ‘kneelers’ they all are and how Jon belonged in the true north.

“Can you at least claim the throne for the time being so that people don’t panic thinking we’re without a ruler? We need law and order.” Tyrion’s voice was desperate and the young Lannister was having as much success attempting to saw Jon as he did trying to plea with Brienne in the black cells. _Yes, there has been so much law and order under Daenerys’ forces for near three weeks._

Brienne huffed in irritation at Tyrion’s repetitive questions and statements. Brienne shifted her gaze to Jon who only grunted in frustration and sat back in his chair. _I wonder what his response will be. Oh, let me guess. ‘I don’t want it._ ’ Sure enough, two seconds later. “I don’t want it.” Brienne closed her eyes and leaned forward, putting her left elbow carefully on the table and attempting to hold up her weary head.

Jaime leaned in and whispered into Brienne’s ear. “Are you alright?” Brienne was in too much pain to turn her neck and face him, but she responded in hushed tones. “I feel as though I’ve fallen off a building.”

Jaime snorted and looked around the room before leaning in again to whisper in her ear. “You’re in good company. I think Davos is either dead or pretending to be. Lucky bastard.” Brienne snorted lightly which only seemed to encourage Jaime. “I think Jon has forgotten all words except ‘I don’t want it.’ Mayhap that is why Daenerys went mad.” Brienne tried to stifle a laugh, but Jaime only continued. “I can’t imagine it helped in the bedroom. ‘I don’t want it.’”

Brienne’s laughter bubbled over and Jaime began chuckling loudly. “I’m sorry. Brother. Lady Brienne. Did you have something to contribute?” Tyrion cast an unamused glance at the two knights and Brienne lowered her eyes in embarrassment. Jaime only took the acknowledgement as a cue to share his thoughts.

“Honestly Tyrion is this necessary? While you sat on your ass in this keep, most of us fought in a battle or fell from a battlement just hours ago. Davos might actually be dead over there. This can wait. It’s absurd.”

Tyrion huffed in irritation. “It is chaos out there. Westeros needs to know that someone will help restore order.”

Jaime rolled his eyes and drawled. “Yes, if there was one thing Robert, Joffrey, and Cersei did well, it was minimize chaos. I’m certain the people can survive another day or two without a ruler named. I also think they’re rather busy counting the dead and treating the injured.”

Tyrion sucked in an irritated breath and gritted his teeth. “I understand that you and your betrothed have endured a lot, so if you rather...” Before Tyrion could finish the words, Tormund perked up.

“Betrothed!? Ya said they was married!” _Gods. Not again. I don’t have the strength for this_. Brienne wanted to bang her head on the table, but the pain in her neck and shoulder made that feat near impossible.

Sansa spoke quickly to try and smooth over Tyrion’s error. “They are married in the eyes of the old gods, but they are southrons and custom dictates they marry in a sept.” Brienne watched as Sansa quickly glanced and Jaime who stammered before composing himself. “Yes… that’s it. We will wed… again.”

“But if the old gods aren’t your custom, it isn’t official? I still have a chance!?” Tormund’s brows rose excitedly. Brienne began to speak, but Jaime’s hand tightened around hers as he glared at the wildling. “There is no chance. Leave her be.”

Surprisingly, it was Selwyn who came to their aid next with another lie. “And our customs mandate that I approve the union. I have already approved the boy’s request to request for my daughter’s hand.”

Tormund shrugged. “Well I could give ya my request! I’ve much more to offer ya daughter than the king killer. Do ya know why the call me Giantsbane!?” _Oh no_. Jaime chuckled beside Brienne. “Oh yes, Lord Tarth you should hear this. Very impressive story. Sadly, I have already heard it, so if we’re about done here…”

“We are not!” Tyrion interrupted Jaime’s words and Brienne watched as the younger Lannister ran his hands through his hair in obvious agitation. “We need to settle this.”

“But Tormund here seeks to make his request and we all know that could take some time.” Jaime cast a teasing smile at Brienne and Selwyn before Sansa interjected.

Placing a steadying hand on Tyrion’s arm, Sansa brought decorum to the room. “Ser Jaime makes an excellent point. Everyone here needs rest Tyrion. Let us reconvene on the morrow after all have had a chance to eat, bathe, and rest. It might even make a difference in Jon’s stance regarding his birthright.”

Jon exhaled sharply but bit his tongue as he too likely longed to leave the bloody council in favor of a bed and hot meal. Tyrion threw up his hands in surrender and muttered. “Fine. On the morrow then.”

Jaime stood from his chair and released Brienne’s hand for the first time in over an hour. Pushing his chair in, he moved to pull her chair out. Offering her aid to stand, Jaime helped her up and promptly looped an arm around her waist. “I’ll walk her to her assigned quarters Lord Tarth. I imagine Tormund is rather eager to tell you all about his qualifications for Brienne’s hand.” Brienne tried to bite back the laugh as she met her father’s eyes.

“This is going to hurt isn’t it?” Selwyn muttered to Brienne as she moved to step away from the table. Brienne grimaced in acknowledgement and spoke in hushed tones. “Just don’t accept anything he offers you from his drinking horn.” Selwyn sighed and glared at Brienne and Jaime. “You owe me.”

Jaime pulled her close and they set off towards the rooms Tyrion had assigned them before the council began. Brienne was eager to change her filthy clothing before taking rest. Having spent over a fortnight in the black cells, Brienne could only imagine what she looked and smelled like. As they passed through the parts of the keep still standing, Jaime signaled a chambermaid in the distance. He whispered something to the young girl who curtsied and took off running. 

It was one of the few decisions Tyrion had made in the past fortnight that Brienne was glad of. Many of the prior castle staff had lost their homes in Drogon’s destruction. Tyrion offered them all shelter in the keep if they continued to keep the castle operational until aid came.

Keeping her eyes fixed forward, Brienne was too tired to ask what Jaime had needed as he continued pulling her towards the room. Upon reaching her door, Jaime opened the door, lead her inside, and pointed to a chair near the balcony. “Have a seat. I’ll help you with the boots. I can’t imagine you’ll be able to bend down and get them off yourself.”

Fatigue and pain won over pride as Brienne sat down without argument. “Did they feed you in the cells?” Brienne huffed a laugh and closed her eyes. “Hardly. I wouldn’t qualify every other day rations of stale bread as food.” Jaime exhaled sharply; irritation evident. “I should have beaten Grey Worm a while longer with my golden fist before beheading him.”

Brienne placed a hand on his shoulder and squeeze lightly. “You did more than enough. Its over now.” Jaime sat next to her after helping remove her shoes. Placing his left arm around her, he placed a soft kiss to her temple and ran soothing circles on her back. “Was it any better for you on the march south with Daenerys?” Brienne inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. “No.”

Brienne didn’t need to look to Jaime to know he was furious. She could hear his jaw working and the atmosphere in the room grew heavy. Shifting closer, Jaime stopped rubbing her back and put his arm around her body. He lowered his head to kiss her right shoulder and Brienne’s body slowly relaxed into his touch. Brienne felt fatigue hit her hard and if she wasn’t so hungry, Brienne swore she could fall asleep sitting upright and be perfectly content with the world.

They sat in companionable silence for some time before a knock at the door came. Jaime walked over and opened the wooden door; directing the handful of women as quickly as they entered Brienne saw the group carrying fresh linens, clothing, food, and water for a bath.

Taking the platter from one of the women, Jaime walked to Brienne. He placed the platter on her lap and implored her to eat. Brienne offered him some food, but Jaime insisted she eat and regain her strength.

Once the maids finished filling the tub and Brienne had enough to eat, Jaime directed her to the bath. “You should bathe before the water turns cold.” Helping her stand, Jaime guided her to the tub. Brienne hesitated slightly and stared at the bath; warm steam rose off the surface of the water and Brienne wanted nothing more than to dive in.

“Let me help you. I won’t look. I promise.” Brienne would have preferred disrobing alone, but she wasn’t certain that would be possible given the injury to her shoulder and neck. Jaime was true to his word and kept his eyes trained beyond her shoulder as he helped remove her tunic and breeches. Brienne watched his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed deeply. His voice cracked slightly as he took her hands and bid her step into the tub. “Careful, wench. Don’t need you breaking anything else today.”

Brienne sat down in the tub and an overwhelming peace took hold of her body. The warm water massaged her injuries. Jaime sat on a stool near the tub, a small smile on his lips. As his eyes met hers, Jaime shifted in his seat. “OK well I looked a little… a lot.” Brienne snorted and splashed some water in his direction.

Jaime smiled wide and pulled the stool closer to her. His body facing her and his left hand moving over the edge of the tub to take the sponge from her hand. “Let me help. You scrub too hard. You’ll take the skin off.” Jaime and Brienne smiled slightly at the implied memory of their shared bath at Harrenhal. As Jaime soaked the sponge in the water and dragged it up and down her arms, Brienne felt a fire pool in her belly. Jaime then helped wash Brienne’s hair given her limited mobility. Jaime wet Brienne’s head and worked the bar of soap into a lather. Brienne felt her heartrate quicken as Jaime ran his soapy fingers back and forth across her scalp; spending extra time rubbing her neck.

As their eyes locked, Jaime abruptly leaned in and brought his lips to hers; his left hand abandoning her neck to clasp the side of her head with his hand. Brienne’s body felt as though it had been set ablaze. A dull throbbing between her legs distracted her as Jaime dropped his hand to her breast. Flicking his thumb over her nipple, Brienne’s mouth opened at the sensation and Jaime deepened the kiss.

Jaime groaned into her mouth and his hand traveled lower below the water’s surface. Brienne tensed slightly and seemed to break Jaime from whatever spell he was under. “I’m sorry.” Jaime quickly withdrew his hand and looked down awkwardly. Brienne reeled slightly at the loss of contact. Her body screaming for him to continue. Brienne cleared her throat and summoned her courage. “Do you wish to bathe? Its not as though we haven’t shared a bath…”

Jaime’s eyes widened at her words and Brienne cut her sentence short. Suddenly she felt very foolish and her face flushed. “I… I only meant… I can get out…”

“No! Its your bath. Stay.” Brienne nodded and looked down to the soapy water playing absently with the sponge. _Stupid. Why must I always make a complete idiot out of myself._ Brienne’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of rustling fabric. It quickly occurred to Brienne that Jaime had left the stool. Before she could move to see where he went, she felt a him start climbing into the tub behind her.

“Jaime! What are you doing?” The water sloshed violently in the tub as Jaime squeeze in behind her. 

“Gods woman, move forward. I don’t know that this is well built for two people of our height.” His voice was teasing as Brienne inched forward.

“The tub is too small!” Brienne tried to turn and see him, but a sharp went through her neck. Jaime only chuckled as he sat down behind her. “This one suits me just fine.” Brienne barely had time to react as she felt his arms pull her back against his chest.

Jaime’s legs came up to cradle her hips and his hard cock pressed into the small of her back. “I would apologize for that, but its your fault really.” 

Brienne snorted and sank back into him. He quickly moved his stump out of sight, but Brienne grabbed it. She felt Jaime hold his breath as she pulled his stump across her chest then moved to pull his left arm around to her other side.

Closing her eyes, Brienne tipped her head back into him and the tension left Jaime’s body. A smile tugged at Brienne’s lips as she whispered sleepily to him. “Try not to faint this time. My shoulder hurts and I don’t have the strength to lift you out.”


	21. Jaime VIIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime has a chat with Selwyn and meets the Stormlands lords.

A loud knock pulled Jaime from a deep sleep. The last thing he remembered was starting to nod off in the tub and helping Brienne out before they both fell asleep. He had helped her get into her clean clothing and threw his own back on, climbing onto the bed beside her. Brienne was on her back to afford the most comfort given her injuries. Jaime curled onto his left side next to her in a bid to spare his strained right bicep and broken ribs.

As the knocking grew more insistent, Jaime slowly looked around the room. It was dark out and Brienne was sleeping peacefully beside him. Jaime was pressed as close to her as possible without being on top of her; his left arm under her pillow and his right arm lightly resting on her waist.

Sitting upright, he padded to the door and tried to make himself look more presentable. _Seven hells. Did I fall asleep for an hour or a day?_ Opening the door absentmindedly, Jaime felt his heart stop at the sight of Lord Tarth. The man looked anything but amused and when his eyes landed on Jaime, his lips turned down even more so.

“Is this not the room Brienne was assigned?” Jaime’s eyes darted back to the bed; a sleeping Brienne lay blissfully unaware of the beating Jaime was about to take. The bath water was dark with grime that had fallen from their bodies. “It is. Sorry I fell asleep visiting for a bit.”

Selwyn abruptly grabbed Jaime by the tunic and yanked him out of the doorway and from view of Brienne. “Visiting for a bit? Visiting in her bath? Visiting in her bed? I just endured hours with that wildling for the pair of you, all the while you were _visiting_ my daughter?”

Jaime began to panic and stammered for a reply. “I… I just meant to ensure she was alright. I did not dishonor her. I swear it.” 

Selywn huffed in irritation. “Well I went to your room looking for you. Imagine my surprise to find the room uninhabited and you laying in my daughter’s bed instead.” 

_Me? He was looking for me?_

“Is this about Tormund? I don’t know what he told you, but…”

Selwyn rolled his eyes and interrupted Jaime. “Gods, boy! Brienne would be better off marrying one of those dreadful Unsullied that that man. You and I are going to have a little talk. Lets go to your room. Do you know where it is or shall I show you?”

Jaime swallowed thickly and turned towards his room. As they entered, Selwyn shut the door behind them and pointed at the table and chair in the corner; encouraging Jaime to sit down. 

“So… all I know of you is that you killed Aerys to prevent this very state of affairs in King’s Landing, you claim to be in love with my daughter, Sansa Stark vouches for you, you brought an army to save my daughter, and you spent most of your life fucking your sister. I’ll let you guess which of those facts worries me most.”

Jaime felt his left palm start to sweat and his heartrate pick up as he attempted to lighten the mood. “Sansa Stark vouching for me? I concede she can be a bit of a pain in the ass.” 

Selwyn cast an unamused glare at Jaime before moving to sit down next to him.

Ignoring Jaime’s failed jape, Selwyn continued. “Did you know that your sister sits in the black cells?” 

The comment caught Jaime off-guard. He had been so preoccupied with Brienne that he completely forgot that his sister was as much a prisoner in the cells as Brienne and Jon had been.

“I had put little though to it truthfully.” Jaime looked down at the table and began picking out the deep grain running through the wood. He could feel Selwyn staring at him. “And what are your thoughts on that? Do you wish to save her? Do you still love her?”

Jaime snorted. “I have no desire to save her. I can’t lie and pretend that I don’t care for her. She is my sister, my twin, and for that I will always love her, but only as a brother _should_. I can’t forgive or condone all she has done. I should have stopped her sooner.” 

Selwyn nodded and sighed deeply. “Yes, you should have. And should they decide to execute your sister?”

Jaime took a deep, steadying breath. It was easy to say he didn’t care, but Cersei was his twin. He didn’t want to see harm befall her despite his anger towards her. He refused to swing the sword, but he knew that Cersei’s decisions were not his own. She would have to answer for her choices as Jaime would need to answer for his. 

“Then I will pray her death is quick and with as little pain as possible. I will not move to stop it or suggest otherwise.”

Jaime felt the old lord’s eyes remain on his face. Slowly, Jaime raised his eyes to meet Selwyn’s. Lord Tarth had a peculiar look on his face. 

“From all I’ve heard of your sister, she certainly reminds me of Tywin. Not you though. You’re more your mother.”

Jaime’s ears perked at that. “You knew my mother?” He sat forward in the chair eagerly. His own memories of his mother had become muddled with time, but he remembered the kindness in her touch. The soothing whispers when he skinned his knee playing too roughly or awoke from a nightmare that Tywin had no interest to soothe. 

“I did. I knew both your parents quite well. Also your aunt and uncles. I wasn’t always as isolated on Tarth as I have been these last decades. Since my wife passed, I’ll admit that I’ve been a recluse, but it wasn’t always that way.”

At the mention of his Aunt Genna, Jaime’s ear began to throb remembering all the abuse it took from his aunt as a child. She had been motherly to Jaime after Joanna’s death, but she was a force to be reckoned with and Jaime found himself wondering just how much time Selwyn spent around his parents, aunt, and uncles. Selwyn rose from his chair and paced to the balcony; appraising the city below and shaking his head at the sight.

“Well either way, it will be nice to see Genna after all these years. I imagine she will have plenty of opinions on this betrothal of yours.” Jaime’s shock must have been evident as Selwyn chuckled. “Did you not know that she is mere days behind?”

Jaime shook his head in denial of the statement. Selwyn huffed and looked away. 

“According to Daven and Addam, she left at the same time as the rest of your forces, but didn’t care for the ‘absurd’ pace. She and a small contingent took their time to stop at more _acceptable_ inns.”

Jaime chuckled at the thought. _Typical Aunt Genna_. 

Selwyn walked closer to Jaime and sized him up again. “Enough of Genna. Tell me, what are your plans for after you wed my daughter? Where will you live?”

Jaime shrugged. “Wherever Brienne wants.” Selwyn continued to stare at Jaime. “And children? Do you plan to have _more?_ ” The implication was not lost on Jaime. 

He stood from his chair and held Selwyn’s stare. “I want to be a _father_ , but I want Brienne to be happy more than my desire for children to call my own. I will do what she wants.”

Selwyn smiled. “Very well. Just don’t get a head start on making any until after the wedding. The real one. And hurry up about that. I can’t bear another conversation with Tormund.” Selwyn moved towards the door and turned back to Jaime. “Alright boy, lets go. I’m hungry. Brienne should eat too.”

After rousing Brienne from sleep, Selwyn, Jaime, and Brienne made their way towards the makeshift dining hall that Tyrion had worked with the staff to setup. Several of the commanders from their allied forces were well into their meals as Jaime and Brienne followed Selwyn to a table of Stormlands lords and soldiers.

“Father, please. I don’t want to sit with them.” Jaime turned at Brienne’s beseeching tone. Selwyn’s tone brokered no argument. “These men answered my call to see you to safety. The least you can do is have a meal with them.” Moving towards the table, Jaime grabbed Brienne’s hand and gave is a reassuring squeeze. He leaned in and whispered in her ear. 

“I haven’t met many from the Stormlands save the Baratheons. Words of advice?”

Brienne snorted. “They are stubborn and short of words.” Jaime laughed and feigned mock surprise. “I never would have guessed.” Brienne glared at him, but she couldn’t mask her smile. “I am not stubborn, although I have been told that I’m as boring as I am ugly.” _Shit_.

Jaime halted their progress towards the table and turned Brienne to face him. “I didn’t mean that you know. I was angry and trying to get a rise out of you. I had spent a last year chained to a pole, covered in my own shit.”

Brienne rolled her eyes and teased. “Well good to know that I’m not _that_ boring.” 

Before she could turn to move forward, Jaime held her in place. “You know what I mean. I don’t think your ugly. Don’t make me prove it to you right now with your father just ahead. I already got a scolding earlier about the need to keep my cock in my breeches.”

Brienne snorted and moved forward again, tugging Jaime along behind her. As they neared the table and started to take their seats, Brienne froze and muttered under her breath. “Fuck.” Jaime’s brows shot upwards. “Did the honorable Ser Brienne of Tarth say ‘fuck’ or do my ears deceive me?”

At his words, Brienne did not smile, but only continued looking in the direction that had halted her progress moments ago. At Brienne’s reaction, Jaime watched Selwyn turn to see the source of his daughter’s discontentment. Turning back to Brienne, Selwyn’s eyes filled with sympathy for his daughter. “Just sit, Brienne. He would be a fool to start with you now.”

“Who? What is going on?” Jaime begged Brienne for some context to aid his response to the situation. Brienne sat down with Jaime quickly following. “Ronnet Connington. We were betrothed once.”

“Oh. Did not end well I take it?” Jaime stared at Brienne who looked down at the table in front of her, eyes closing briefly as if trying to clear her head of some memory. “Lets just say, he would have enjoyed your initial assessment of me in the Riverlands.”

Jaime turned to look back at the approaching knight. _Gods what is it with Brienne and irksome redheads_. As Ronnet took a seat two chairs down from Selwyn, the knight clapped the shoulder of a lord who Jaime had yet to meet and then turned to shake hands with another. Then Ronnet’s attention landed on Brienne and a false smile crossed his face.

“Lady Brienne. Good to see the march here at such haste was not a lost cause.” Brienne cleared her throat and cast a quick glance to Ronnet before looking at the other lords and commanders from the Stormlands. 

“I thank you all for the aid.” 

Ronnet’s false smile did not leave his face. “Well we certainly could not refuse Lord Tarth’s call. With House Baratheon extinguished, he has been our unofficial warden of sorts.”

Ronnet cast a groveling smile at Selwyn which didn’t sit right with Jaime. “It’s ser.” At Jaime’s words, Ronnet snapped his attention to the one-handed knight. “Excuse me?” 

Jaime curled his lips in disdain for the man he just met. “Ser Brienne of Tarth. She is a knight. She defeated death itself in the north while you sat down here in the south. She killed the mad queen to save the very city you sit in now.”

Ronnet’s lips curved upwards and a small chuckle escaped his lips. “Ah yes. The kingslayer. You know all about killing sovereigns don’t you.”

Selwyn’s tone cut through the tension in the air. “Easy boy. Don’t speak on things you don’t understand.” 

Ronnet’s smile faded into a tight, thin line. “Sorry my Lord. I meant no insult to your daughter.”

Brienne scoffed. “Yes, I imagine.” The staff quickly set down food in front of the new arrivals to the table and Jaime felt his body tense. _Of course we’re having a thick cut of meat_. 

Brienne swiftly took Jaime’s plate and pulled it towards her; silently cutting his meat into pieces as she had done numerous times before. Jaime was always grateful for her aid, but now more than ever as it gave Jaime a chance to take appraisal of Ronnet.

The man was scrawny and looked a poor excuse for a knight. Jaime imagined the man saw little combat and likely preferred to stand behind his men and bark orders before retreating to his tent. 

“So Ronnet.” Jaime said the man’s name as though it was a curse. “I didn’t see you at the front lines. Did you just arrive?”

Ronnet met Jaime’s eyes. “I was stationed away from the Stormlands and word got to me too late. I only arrived some hours ago unfortunately, but a group of my men were here for the battle.” Ronnet nodded at Selwyn who in turn nodded thanks at the man.

Jaime’s false smile spread. “How fortunate for you.” Jaime heard his plate slide back in front of him and he turned to Brienne; a warm smile now replacing his false one. “Thank you, ser.” Jaime turned to his plate to eat, but Ronnet’s voice carried across the table.

“Its wonderful you have someone to _lend you a hand_.” A couple of the lords next to Ronnet chuckled at the man’s jape and Jaime felt anger course through his body. Then Brienne spoke in a clipped tone beside him. “And yet somehow, he can still do so much more with the one than you can with two.”

The lords next to Ronnet laughed harder and any anger in Jaime’s body was quickly replaced by appreciation and pride for the woman next to him. Jaime watched Selwyn smile and stifle a laugh, but Brienne’s eyes held no mirth as they locked onto Ronnet’s.

Ronnet spoke next; his eyes still fixed on Brienne. “I heard you two _knights_ are to wed. Well that is quite the first. Tell me, who will carry the bouquet of _roses_?” Jaime immediately realized that he was lacking a significant deal of context as the table fell quiet. Selwyn stiffened and Brienne’s hands clenched into a fist.

“Enough Ronnet.” Selwyn again caught the attention of the scrawny knight, but whatever had just passed between Brienne and Ronnet ran too deep to die. The man plastered another fake smile on his face. “I’m just glad there was finally someone desperate enough. My congratulations to you Lord Tarth. Mayhap you will get that new calf after all.”

The lords at the table sucked in a breath and looked to Brienne and Selwyn. Brienne’s eyes were a desperate plea for defense from her father. Selwyn shook his head slightly and muttered to Brienne. “Remember what I’ve told you. Words are wind child. Let it go.” Brienne’s face fell and she looked down to her plate. For the first time since meeting Selwyn, Jaime felt anger towards the man. _Nope. Can’t have that_. Jaime stood from his seat and leaned across the table, fury in his tone. “You will apologize to Ser Brienne now.”

Ronnet rose and leaned towards Jaime from the opposite side of the table. Gritting his teeth, Ronnet spat at Jaime “Or what kingslayer?” Without warning, Jaime’s gold hand cracked Ronnet across the face. All sound in the dining hall came to a grinding halt. Ronnet grabbed his face, tears pooling in his eyes. “What the fuck was that! My face!” Jaime sneered at the man and from the corner of his eye, observed the Lannister bannerman approach from his left. “ _That_ was a warning. You will apologize to Ser Brienne _now_.”

Ronnet looked back to Brienne whose eyes were wide in shock. The disgraced knight sniffled slightly before speaking. “I’m sorry.” The lords and battle commanders from the Stormlands looked to their plates and Jaime continued to stare down Ronnet.

“Good. Now why don’t you take your meal to one of your hungry men outside who actually fought today.” Jaime sat down at the table and his men slowly moved back to their seats at a nearby table. Ronnet turned on heel and fled from the hall.

Jaime looked at Brienne and then to Selwyn was looked as shocked as his daughter. “Words are more than wind. They are cutting as valyrian steel and no one will insult my wife, the greatest knight in the history of the seven kingdoms.”

Brienne’s jaw went slack and Jaime grinned at her as he reached for the wine. “How about some wine? It’s Dornish.”


	22. Brienne VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne have had enough of dinner with the Stormlands. They take a detour outside before heading in.
> 
> Note: The end is NSFW

After Jaime’s dismissal of Ronnet from the table, the dinner became a bit awkward. If her father wasn’t in so much shock, Brienne knew he would have reprimanded Jaime for causing a scene. Her feelings had always come second to Selwyn’s need for social decorum regardless of such trivial matters as personal feelings.

Images of Ronnet throwing a rose in her face for all of Tarth to see played over in her mind. The man’s cruelty and outright refusal of her making her feel worthless. _The ugliest beast in all of Westeros. Brienne the Beauty_. As if sensing her declining mood, Jaime grabbed her knee under the table and leaned into her ear. “Please save me from this dreadful dinner. I need some air.”

Brienne smiled knowing it was much more for her than him. Looking back to her father, Brienne raised her brow. “Have I spent enough time with the men for your liking?” Selwyn sat back in his chair and took appraisal of the pair across the table. Jaime had a smug look on his face while Brienne looked miserable. “I think you’ve both done more than enough.” Selwyn looked sharply at Jaime who feigned innocence.

Brienne stood to leave and bade her goodbyes to the lords and commanders around the table. As she and Jaime took a step away from the table, her father’s booming voice stopped their progress. “Ser Jaime. Meet me in the training yards on the morrow. I should like a spar with my future goodson.”

“He will not. He has injuries from the battle father. You do recall him catching me from a bit of a fall, don’t you?” Brienne looked to her side as Jaime’s shoulder brushed hers, a wolfish smile on his face that Arya would be proud of. “I don’t mind a little quality time.”

Selwyn smiled sharply back. “Relax Brienne. I am but an old man. The boy’s injuries merely seek to even the odds. Just a friendly spar.” _Friendly spar my ass_. Brienne and her father exchanged pointed glares before a fake smile settled over her face. “Fair enough. Usual time?” Selwyn nodded and returned the false smile. “You know me girl. I enjoy a dance under the stars.” As a girl, Brienne had endured many a _lesson_ under the retreating light of the moon and stars as the sun broke over the horizon.

“Wonderful. Well given the hour you best retrieve Jaime from bed on the way to the yards. He isn’t as much an early bird as you. You remember the room he’s staying in, correct? I believe you retrieved from it earlier.”

Judging by the fury evident in her father’s eyes, he knew just the one. With a satisfied grin, Brienne spun on her heel and yanked Jaime by the arm. A feeling of victory washed through her as they left the makeshift dining hall. As they exited, Jaime grabbed her arm and Brienne released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“Are you mad woman!? Well now he is definitely going to cut off my cock.” Brienne exhaled loudly. “Sorry, I just wanted to piss him off. You can sneak in before he had planned to retrieve you.” Jaime backed her up into a small alcove, a smirk on his face. “Sneak in? I had rather planned to be sneaking out.”

Brienne began to laugh, but Jaime’s lips found hers. He pressed his body flush against her and groped her backside with his left hand. As voices echoed off the stonework down the hall, Jaime stepped back and grabbed Brienne’s hand. Tugging her outside the castle walls, the pair walked out the door towards what remained of the gardens.

Much of the gardens were blanketed in ash and rubble as the city center was. Brienne struggled to imagine these were the same grounds she enjoyed strolling in during her brief stay years ago.

Making their way along, Jaime pulled her close so they were hip to hip; nipping at her neck and cheek. “Where are we going Jaime?” He smiled and scoffed. “Can’t I just enjoy an evening stroll with my betrothed? Maybe I want to enjoy some time with you while taking in the distant sounds of Ronnet’s cries echoing off the city walls.”

Brienne chuckled and was about to thank him for his earlier defense of her when she spotted someone sitting on the steps of the veranda in the distance. “Is that Jon?”

Jaime followed her eyeline to the silhouetted figure and squinted. “I think so.” Brienne observed Jon’s sullen posture and downcast head. “He looks miserable. We should check on him.”

Jaime wined. “He _always_ looks miserable. I’m sure he’s fine. Perfectly normal.” Jaime tried to return to pressing warm kisses to her neck, but Brienne couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for Jon. “We should talk to him.”

Jaime groaned in protest. “Talk? I rather had hoped to use my mouth for other things.” Brienne rolled her eyes and pulled him along like a sulking child being dragged about by his mother. “Jon?”

At her voice, Jon spun around to appraise who had called for him. “Oh Ser Brienne. Ser Jaime. What brings you out here.” Brienne could tell Jaime was about to say something highly inappropriate if his smirk was any indication, so she elbowed him in his good side and spoke on their behalf.

“Just getting some air from the hall. Its been a long day.” Jon huffed and looked back ahead. “Aye, it has.”

Brienne walked a bit closer to see the man’s face. “Are you alright?” Jon again picked up his head to look at her. A sad smile tugged at his lips. “Just feeling a bit lost.” Brienne didn’t know Jon well enough to understand if he wanted company or not when he was in a mood like this.

Turning to look at Jaime, she rolled her eyes as he gestured wildly from behind Jon imploring her to retreat to the castle. Brienne lingered a moment longer but took a step towards Jaime’s whose face beamed with triumph. Then Jon spoke.

“I think you two are the only ones who understand.” _Oh. Do we stay?_ Brienne turned back to Jon and Jaime buried his face in his hands while fake sobbing. Waiting for his silent tantrum to end, Brienne nodded for Jaime to join her with Jon.

Brienne sat down next to Jon and sighed. “Let me guess. This is about the throne?” Jon nodded and met her eyes. “Aye. It’s just… I don’t” Jon’s words were abruptly cut off by Jaime who plopped down next to Brienne. “don’t want it. Really Snow. The first sign of Targaryen madness is the repetition. ‘Burn them all. Burn them all. Burn them all.’ ‘Bend the knee. Bend the knee. Bend the knee.’” Brienne glared at Jaime, wide-eyed with irritation. _Not helping_. Jaime shrugged in feigned innocence.

Turning back to Jon, Brienne looked sympathetically at the young man. “Ignore him. If you sit still long enough saying nothing, he eventually grows tired and goes away.” Jon huffed a laugh and looked down. “You both seem more like me. Just want to fight for a good cause and be left alone from politics. What would you do?”

Brienne sighed and leaned back. “Well… you could always find someone who enjoys the politics. Make them your hand. Then you could focus on causes more important to you. Protecting the people. Enacting laws you are passionate about.”

Jon sighed. “I could barely rule the North let alone seven kingdoms.” Brienne considered his words and something struck her. “Would you have continued to rule the North? Had all of this not happened that is.”

Jon considered her words. “I guess. Only because they wanted me to. One kingdom is quite a bit different than seven though. I don’t even know the other kingdoms. I’m just a bastard. My upbringing wasn’t the same as the likes of Sansa.”

Brienne shrugged. “Then don’t rule them all.” Jaime scoffed beside her and Jon looked at Brienne like she had sprouted another head.

“Rule the Crownlands. These people need a leader. Someone kind, honorable, and just. They don’t need more war and cruelty.”

Jon’s brows furrowed. “But what about the rest of Westeros?”

Brienne smiled. “Give them back to the Great Houses. Your ancestors came over and conquered independent kingdoms. Liberate them. I know Sansa wants the North free. The Iron Islands already were granted independence by Daenerys. I can’t think of a single kingdom that wouldn’t want to rule itself.

Jaime spoke from beside her. “That’s actually not a bad idea.” Jon suddenly seemed quite hopeful. “Would there be any downside?”

Brienne mulled his question over for a moment and only one came to mind. “They all came together to get Daenerys’ men out of the city. I’ve never seen so many different banners stand together like that. It would be a shame to make them feel disconnected.”

Jon’s face fell slightly, but he met Brienne’s eyes again. “Maybe there is a way around that. A way to encourage continued peace.”

This time Jaime spoke more excitedly. “The small councils! Each great house will want to have its own small council. Even at the Rock we had an unofficial one. Make each include an emissary from every kingdom. My father tried to do that with the small council here by including Prince Obryn; even if his true intentions were self-serving.”

Jon’s excitement nearly rivaled Jaime’s as he took it all in. “And they’re likely to want their own version of a kingsguard too. They should still have seven guards to represent each kingdom. We should encourage fighters to move between armies and kingdoms. Serve who they believe in; not whose lands they were born on.”

Jon smiled and looked out over the bay stretched out before them. His tone turned a bit sullen. “Daenerys kept saying she wanted to break the wheel. Maybe this is my chance to honor at least one bit of good that was in her before the madness took it.”

“I think that’s a lovely idea. Good luck telling Tyrion.” Brienne moved to stand and Jaime guffawed behind her. “Yes, good luck. My brother is going to be a pain the ass about it.”

“Wait. Where are you two going? I need support for this.” Jaime looped his arm around Brienne’s waist. “You have it. I’m rooting for you Snow! I’ll cheer you on from bed.”

Jon stood and called out to them. “I’ll wait until the morrow then!”

Jaime turned to look at Brienne and smiled widely. “Gods tomorrow has the makings of an excellent day. A physical beating from your father before even the sun wakes. A verbal beating from Tyrion when Jon blames us for this idea.”

Brienne groaned at the thought of another day listening in on political talk lead by Tyrion. “Gods I can’t stand another set of meetings listening to it all.”

“It could be worse. Imagine the looks on their faces when they realize they have to rule now.” Jaime chuckled, but Brienne stopped walking and felt the color leave her face. _Oh no. What have I done?_

“Brienne? What’s wrong?” Brienne eyes locked with Jaime’s; trepidation writ on her face. “Did I just make you a king?”

Jaime laughed. “Gods no! Genna or Tyrion can fight it out. I’ll be quite busy as consort to the future Evenstar. Much to do on Tarth. So much bonding time with the likes of Ronnet. And besides…” Jaime put on his best Jon impression. “I don’t want it.”

Taking her hand, Jaime tugged Brienne along towards her room. “So how much pain is your father going to inflict on me in the morning?” Brienne sighed before stopping outside her door. “If he was younger, I would wager he might try to even out the broken rib count on your other side. Now I imagine it will be more of a verbal lashing. I thank you for it though. Coming to my defense.”

Jaime smile widely. “Oh, to be clear, I’m not worried about punishment for cracking that idiot across the face. I am worried about what he’ll do when he realizes I didn’t keep my cock in my breeches.”

Brienne’s jaw slackened, but her gasp was promptly swallowed by Jaime’s mouth. He reached his hand behind her and opened the door to her room; guiding them inside. As they crossed the threshold of the room, Jaime shut the door behind them and spun Brienne around, pinning her against the door.

Their kisses deepened, becoming more frantic and Jaime pressed the length of his body against her. His cock dug into Brienne’s pelvis as her hands cupped Jaime’s face and grabbed the hair at the nape of his neck. As Jaime’s lips dropped to Brienne’s neck, she felt her pulse quicken under his tongue. They were both panting and Jaime began frantically rutting against her; cursing as he struggled with the ties of her tunic.

As he continued waging war with her laces, Brienne barely stifled a laugh. “What are you doing to my tunic?” Jaime grunted in frustration. “Gods woman have you triple knotted these? It needs to come off. It’s in the way.” Brienne chuckled and helped with the knot.

With the ties loosened, Jaime’s moved to urgently remove the offending fabric, but a bolt of pain shot through Brienne’s shoulder and neck at the sudden movement. “Sorry! I forgot. Are you alright?” Jaime took a deep, steadying breath and ran his hand over his face. “Gods what’s wrong with me. Its bloody hot in here.”

 _He’s nervous_. Brienne swallowed thickly and reached for Jaime’s right wrist, raising it towards her chest and tugging at the bindings that held the gold hand to his stump. Brienne noticed Jaime tense and hold his breath as she removed the false hand and set it down on a table just to her right.

She smiled at him and placed a soft kiss to Jaime’s stump. Jaime’s eyes went soft and he breathed, reaching to cradle her head with his left hand as he leaned in to place a slow, deep kiss to her lips. Guiding her towards the bed, Jaime slowly lowered her down and crawled between her legs; leaning down to kiss her lips and jaw. “I love you.”

Brienne felt her heart swell at his words. Jaime pulled back his head to look in Brienne’s eyes. “We don’t have to do anything. I just… want to be here with you.” Brienne smiled and raised her hand to his jaw. “I love you too.” Brienne dropped her hands to the laces of his tunic and untied the laces. Jaime pulled the tunic over his head and leaned back down to kiss her.

They slowly removed their breeches and Brienne’s heart began to race. Jaime slowly trailed kisses down her body until his head was between her thighs. Brienne held her breath as she realized what he was doing. “Relax Brienne.”

Jaime brought her over the edge with his tongue and then climbed up to meet eyes; his pupils blown with lust. Brienne brought up her legs to his sides and held his stare. Jaime hesitated for a moment. “Are you sure?” Brienne smiled at his question and nodded. Jaime slowly pushed into her and Brienne gasped at the sensation.

Jaime paused to ensure sure she was alright before working into a steady rhythm. Leaning on his left arm and using his right to angle her left leg up, Jaime buried himself deeper into her. Brienne gasped his name as her walls began to tighten around him. Jaime continued thrusting into her; his pace quickening. Brienne felt herself nearing the edge again and clung to his back.

As Brienne spiraled again, Jaime spilled deep inside her; her name a choked prayer on his lips. She didn’t feel the pain in her neck or shoulder, just Jaime. Only Jaime. As he collapsed onto her; they both grimaced slightly at their injuries colliding, but neither moved to break their union. It wasn't long before both fell asleep; a peaceful sleep for once.


	23. Jaime X

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Selwyn have a spar and a chat. The council regroups to discuss who should rule.

Jaime awoke in the same manner he did the day prior; to the sound of heavy banging on the bedroom door. Pain pulsed through his ribs from having fallen asleep on them while holding Brienne. Brienne began to stir beside him, likely disturbed by the thunderous knocks too.

“Time for my beating. Well-earned and worth it.” Jaime smirked at Brienne who was moving to sit up, but also seemed to be feeling the effects of a sleep position ill-advised for her injuries. Jaime quickly got dressed as Selwyn’s pounding continued. Jaime shouted at the door while Brienne struggled with her tunic. “Yes, yes! I’m moving.”

As Jaime glanced back to ensure Brienne was clothed, he pulled open the door to find Selwyn glaring from the doorway. “I thought that I was clear on no grandbabes until after you wed.” Jaime swallowed thickly and cast a sideways glance at Brienne who approached and straightened at the words.

“Yes, well in that case, have you brought the moon tea, father?” Selwyn’s face flashed with rage as the older man bit down on his lip. “We will have words on this later child.” Shifting his eyes from Brienne to Jaime, he spoke commandingly. “Lets go boy.”

Selwyn moved away from the door and Jaime bit back a laugh while leaning into Brienne’s ear and whispering. “ _Did he bring the moon tea_? Truly, now you’re trying to get me killed. If last night was that disappointing, I assure you there are far gentler ways to let me down.”

Brienne snorted and Jaime leaned in to kiss her lips, ignoring Selwyn’s grunts of impatience from outside the room. “I’ll meet you back here to break out fast? Assuming I’m still alive that is.” Brienne nodded at Jaime’s question and gave him a false smile. “Have fun. He looks to be in a wonderful mood.” Jaime huffed and moved to leave, but Brienne grabbed his arm and leaned in to whisper. “His left side is weakest. He always leaves himself exposed beneath the ribs.”

Jaime begrudgingly left the room and fell into step alongside Selwyn. The man seemed bigger than the day prior and his mood infinitely more sour. _Maybe I don’t tell him how wonderful his daughter is with a sword lest he take it the wrong way_.

Jaime stole a quick glance at Selwyn and reminded himself that this man failed the woman he loved. That he made Brienne believe her feelings of self-worth came second to alliances between houses and cunts like Ronnet Connington.

Making their way into the training yards, Jaime observed the coat of ash on the ground and ruined armory that once housed both the field and training equipment. “I’ll see if I can pull training swords from the rubble.” Jaime spoke the words as much to himself as he did Selwyn.

“What do we need wooden toys for boy? I believe we both have steel at hour hip.” Selwyn didn’t bother to meet Jaime’s eyes as he spoke the words and moved to position. _Gods, he does mean to kill me_. Jaime sighed and unsheathed Widow’s Wail from his sword belt. He cast a skeptical glance at the man across from him whose lips tugged into a smug smile. “What? Worried an old man doesn’t remember how to pull his strikes? I trained that woman you just dishonored. I’m certain her skill is evidence enough that I know what I’m doing.”

Jaime’s frustration level was beginning to mount. “I’m not the one who has dishonored her. I think that feat accomplished verbally by the men you allowed to mock her for most of her life.” At his words, Selwyn took a massive swing at Jaime who barely lifted his sword in time to deflect it. Selwyn was incredibly strong. Brienne’s strikes felt like a butterfly landing on Jaime’s shoulder compared to the force from her father’s blow.

“You of all people question _my_ parenting.” Something went off in Jaime at the words. He spun around quickly and following Brienne’s advice, aggressively tapped the flat end of his sword into Selwyn’s left ribs. A small smirk on his face as recognition dawned over Selwyn that his daughter had prepared Jaime.

“I was never allowed to parent any children I sired. Had I, Westeros would be in a much different place. Even as an uncle in name though, I would never allow some miserable shit to speak to my _niece_ and _nephews_ the way you allowed that miserable shit to speak to Brienne.”

Selwyn raised his sword and brought down a series of bruising blows onto Jaime who struggled to parry and counter them. _Gods the man is a brute_. Jaime slipped under Selwyn’s last swing, spun around towards Selwyn’s back, and countered a blow to the man’s neck, stopping just short of hitting flesh.

Selwyn gritted his teeth and cast a glance to Jaime without moving his head. “You think its so easy boy!? Watching your entire family die within a year’s time and being left with one child to raise alone. And a defiant one at that!”

“If you had a child left to raise, then you didn’t lose your _entire_ family. Seems you acted as though you lost them all though.” Selwyn kicked back his leg into Jaime’s gut who was still standing behind him; sword at Selwyn’s neck. The distraction gave Selwyn enough time to turn around punch Jaime hard in the face; sending him flat onto his back.

“Enough! Do not speak of matters you don’t understand.” Jaime struggled to catch his breath as blood slowly trickled down his face from his upper lip and nose. Selwyn ran his hand through his hair in frustration before looking back down to Jaime. With a heavy sigh, he grabbed Jaime’s left arm and hauled him up.

“Are you alright boy?” Jaime looked at him incredulous. “Never been better. Nothing like the taste of my own blood to break my fast.” Selwyn removed a cloth from his jerkin and handed it to Jaime without making eye contact. Looking out at the city, Selwyn exhaled sharply and sheathed his sword. Selwyn muttered something under his breath and moved to sit on a stone bench off to the side. “Come. Sit here. I won’t punch you anymore.”

Jaime snorted and picked up his sword; sheathing it and walking to the bench. “I know that I failed Brienne as a father in many ways, but I cannot shield her from the world. Don’t you think I want to run every idiot through with my sword who mocks her?” Jaime shrugged as he continued to hold the cloth to his nose in a bid to stem the bleeding. “If I did that, there would be no one left! Tell me true boy, when you met her, did you think her beautiful.”

Jaime sighed. “That is not fair. We were on opposing sides of a war.” Selwyn barked a laugh. “The two are not related. I heard the dragon queen was quite a beauty despite her madness. Come now. What was your first impression of my daughter?” _Is that a woman? Where did you find this beast? You’re much uglier in the daylight._

Jaime felt sick as he earliest words to Brienne came back to haunt him. Selwyn chuckled beside him. “Your face is too expressive for your own good. No need to answer that. I imagine you shared with her quite a few opinions about her appearance, did you?” Jaime nodded in affirmation and felt shame sink in.

“I’m not blind. I love my daughter, but the world is cruel and her appearance does not meet societies expectations. I tried to equip her with a silly phrase to help ignore the harsh words from others. Words she heard daily with or without me present. Clearly it did not work. I didn’t know what else to do other than allow her to train. It did not go over well with anyone in or around Tarth that I allowed my daughter to trade in a skirt for breeches and a needle for a sword, but it made her feel something other than worthless. She always loved watching her brother train until he died. Just as Galladon wanted to be a knight, she wanted to be the maid that knights rescued. The world informed her quite early on that there would be no rescue, so she decided to become her own knight. Judge me all you want. My intentions were in the right place despite failing on the execution of it.”

Selwyn sighed and looked to Jaime. “You are the only person beyond myself who has truly seen my daughter and I am more grateful for that than you rallying an army to save her. Just don’t forget your earliest assessment of her because she will continue to hear it from those around her. As amusing as it was to see you crack Ronnet across the face, you can’t do that to everyone who thinks her ugly. You will run short on allies to keep her safe. To keep any future grandbabes safe. And by the Gods, stop trying to make them so damn quickly.”

Jaime chuckled and looked at Selwyn. “Can’t we just have the wedding sooner then?” Selwyn glared at Jaime and huffed. “When your aunt gets here, you ask her that. Genna is likely to plan nothing short of a typical Lannister wedding which I imagine takes moons to pull off.” Jaime cringed at the idea.

“And no. I will not be supplying you two with moon tea in the meantime.” Jaime bit back the laugh that threatened to escape. “I had nothing to do with that remark. I was content to take my beating with my mouth shut.” Selwyn scoffed. “Oh please! That remark was everything I would expect from Brienne. She has been a pain my ass from the time she could walk. You piss her off and you’ll find yourself on the wrong side of her words soon enough boy.”

Selwyn stood and smoothed out his clothing. “Come boy. Lets get Brienne and eat something before this ridiculous council with your brother. I am old and will need the strength to survive another day of this nonsense.”

Walking back to the keep, Selwyn clapped a hand on Jaime’s shoulder and smile tugged at his lips. “How did it feel by the way? Hitting Ronnet that is. I’ve dreamed of doing that for years.” The two men chuckled and then made idle chat until they reached Brienne’s room. As Brienne opened the door to answer their knocking, she took appraisal of the men before her. Brienne’s eyes widened in shock at the sight of two men before her; smiles on their faces and her betrothed a bloodied mess. 

“Father! What did you do!?” Selwyn shrugged innocently as Jaime maintained his smile. “My fault really. I fell into his fist after nearly dying of boredom. He moves too slow and grimaces more than you do. Gives away the game.”

Selwyn rolled his eyes and glared at Jaime who looked all to pleased with himself. Batting his eyes at Brienne, Jaime tilted his head and met her eyes. “Do I still look pretty?” Brienne scoffed. “Well that face is your only redeeming quality so you would be better served to not fall into any more fists.” Jaime chuckled at her jape and extended an arm to walk towards the hall.

With a glare at her father, Brienne took Jaime’s arm. “Mayhap we can spar on the morrow father. Even with one arm out of commission, it can’t be much worse for my recovery than fighting my own shadow.”

After eating, everyone returned to the map room for another day of listening to Tyrion rant at Jon. Today unlike the day prior, Jon appeared more confident and met the eyes of everyone around the table. Before Tyrion could finish asking the question, Jon had an answer for him. “Fine. I’ll do it. One condition though.”

Tyrion and Sansa exchanged a hopeful look and Jaime watched as Tyrion leaned forward in anticipation of the terms. Jon sucked in a breath and looked to Jaime and Brienne. “Ser Jaime and Ser Brienne will serve on my council. No one else. Whatever decisions we make, you will not fight nor interfere with.”

 _I’m sorry what now?_ Jaime cast a quick look at Brienne who looked equally taken aback by the words. “Done!” Tyrion yelled excitedly and stood from his seat. “What? No! Yes, hello. Do we get any say in the matter?” Jaime started babbling and looking at Jon imploringly. Jon gave Jaime a pointed look. “I think you and Ser Brienne have a lot of great _ideas_ to offer. We should let the people know first who is to rule before I focus on _enacting laws I am passionate about_.”

Jaime cast a quick glance to Brienne who also seemed to pick up on Jon’s reminder to their conversation last night. Jaime gave a tight, false smile. “And you’re confident you can’t accomplish such things without me and Ser Brienne to pat your head and rock you to sleep along the way?”

Jon raised a brow at Jaime and a smirk slowly spread across his face. “Who better to keep a potentially mad Targaryen in line than the two of you? I’m prone to repetition after all. I heard that is the first sign of madness.”


	24. Sansa VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa meets with an old friend after leaving Brienne, Jaime, and Jon to talk

Sansa took in the scene before her. Her sworn sword and former goodbrother huffed at each other in frustration while pacing wildly in Sansa’s assigned room. Sansa had to bite back a laugh while watching the scene unfold. After the meeting, they had retreated to Sansa’s room at Tyrion’s behest. Tyrion promised to meet with them shortly and Sansa was somehow tasked with keeping them under control.

“Well I do hope you’re pleased. You just can’t keep your mouth shut. How many times is this now that your little remarks have landed you or us in trouble? _The first sign of madness is repetition_!” Jaime scoffed at Brienne’s words. “Oh, so you had nothing to do with this!?” Jaime spat the words and then tried his best to imitate Brienne’s voice; but it came out an octave too high. “Awww, look how sad he is. We should go stroke his hair and hug his fur cloak covered shoulders.”

Brienne narrowed her eyes in disbelief. “You are so dramatic! I said none of that. And don’t feign innocence. You were rather quick to throw out ideas too.” Jaime snorted and shrugged indignantly. They continued back and forth for a few minutes, but unsurprisingly to Sansa, Jaime was the first to cave.

“I’m sorry alright. I’ll find a way to get us out of this.” Sansa felt the smallest pang of jealousy at the softness in Jaime’s face as he looked at Brienne. She was truly happy for the two people before her. They restored her faith in love, but their burgeoning romance also reminded Sansa how much she lacked it in her own life. Sansa always wore a cold mask in public, a necessity of her position and need to protect her heart from past traumas, but she longed for tenderness.

“I know this is a lot to take in, but you should both consider the good you can do in this situation. I’ve spent the better part of the last day walking the streets of King’s Landing. The people are calling for you to lead. They think Brienne their savior. They have come to understand Ser Jaime’s role in preventing this very situation under Aerys’ rule. The people don’t want another Targaryen. They want their kingslayers.”

Both looked at her with incredulous expressions on their faces. Brienne was the first to speak. “Then give them Arya! I’m a knight, not a leader. I merely did as Ser Jaime bid me do. I am not fit to take on such a role.” Jaime added his own list of self-perceived, lack of qualifications, “I may have done one decent thing, but I caused quite a lot of other problems; of that I think we can all agree.”

Before they could continue listing all the reason this was the worst idea ever, a loud knock came at the door. Sansa did not miss the shared chuckle that passed between the pair of knights before she rose from her seat to answer the door. 

On the other side of the door stood Jon and Tyrion. Both men entered and came to stand before the tall knights. Brienne and Jaime stood shoulder to shoulder; anger in their eyes. _Gods they truly are a force together._ The two knights stood a true united front, entirely betraying their discord from moments ago. “We won’t do it.” Jaime spat the words through gritted teeth looking between the two men before them.

Tyrion sighed while walking to the table to pour himself some wine. “You can and you will.” Jaime cocked his head in disbelief at his younger brother’s demanding tone. “Oh, I’m sorry _Tywin_. Did my words not quiet make it to your ears? We. Won’t. Do. It.” Sansa watched Tyrion flinch at the mention of his father.

“Jaime, hear us out.” Tyrion strode back towards Jon while taking a long sip of his wine. “Us?” Brienne interjected as Tyrion was about to continue his train of thought. Sansa watched as Jon and Tyrion exchanged a look before motioning for the two knights to sit down. _Those swords are to be at Tyrion’s head before he has time to get a thought out._

“I’m fine standing thank you.” Jaime crossed his arms as he spoke the words; irritation dripping from his tone. “Yes, I believe standing suits me just fine as well.” Brienne mirrored Jaime’s annoyance and her hand instinctively went to the hilt of Oathkeeper.

Tyrion sucked in a breath and took a seat. “Suit yourselves. Jon here doesn’t wish to rule, but he does have lineage to make a fair claim. The North and Vale would support him; of that I have no doubt. The people of King’s Landing on the other hand want both of you to rule. Unfortunately for you, the West and the Stormlands seem to agree with the people of King’s Landing. We thought it would make the most sense to have you three rule together. Everyone wins. Jon will be king. Jaime hand. Brienne Lord Commander.”

Both knights shared a look with one another and burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. _Gods they’ve cracked._ “Just stop it. Really. You’ve gone mad.” Brienne covered her mouth with her hands as she tried to compose herself. Jaime looked to her, raising his one good hand. “I get to be hand, Brienne. I’m not sure I have a spare to give.” Brienne snorted. “Can we make Bran master of whisperers? Then I don’t have to do anything. He can just anticipate every threat to Jon.”

Jaime got very excited about the thought. “Yessss! Oh Gods! Lets make Bronn master of coin. Who could you trust more with money than a sellsword? The brothels would see profits quadruple of that I have no doubt.” 

Sansa watched Tyrion’s anger mount as Jaime and Brienne continued to make a mockery of this. “Enough! People are growing impatient. They need leaders. People they trust. If we don’t settle this soon, there is bound to be more war.”

Jaime’s smile fell from his face. “We won the war for you. Don’t ask us to shoulder this responsibility now. You brought that mad woman to Westeros. You fix this. It seems you’ve enjoyed the role of hand for multiple rulers. Why don’t you help Jon?”

Tyrion sighed and ran his hands over his face. “Jon has only agreed to this if you do this alongside him. If we don’t have Jon, we don’t have anyone else.” As if awaking from slumber, Jon looked to Brienne and Jaime before speaking to Tyrion. “Let me speak with them alone. I’ll meet you in the hall after.”

Tyrion polished off the cup of wine and stood from his chair. With a final look towards the two knights, Tyrion turned to Sansa. “Shall we my lady? It appears that you’ve been kicked out of your own room.”

Sansa sighed and moved towards Tyrion. She placed a steadying hand on Jon’s shoulder and tilted her head slightly. Whispering so that only Jon could hear, she left him with something to think on. “They’ve been through a lot. Truly think through what you are asking of them.”

Jon nodded solemnly as Sansa left. Stepping into the hallway, she looked down at her former husband. “Well that went better than I expected.” Tyrion’s brows shot up at the words; a cynical expression etched across his face. “Better than expected? I’m afraid to ask what you thought might happen.”

Sansa smiled lightly and huffed a laugh. “I thought one or both may move to behead you. Tyrion, you know how much I hate agreeing with your brother, but I need to on this one. You have three people in there who want nothing to do with ruling. One has the lineage for it. Two have the support for it. None have the desire for it. I once believed you the cleverest man I knew. Is this really the best solution you have?”

Tyrion sighed and motioned for them to walk towards the hall. “It is the only option we have if not the best solution. You’ve heard the people Sansa. They want their knights in shining armor. Jon spent the first battle outside the city gates and the second battle in the black cells. All the people know is that he, until recently, was a bastard now claims himself a Targaryen. We can sell this in as a ‘who better to keep the king in line than these two’.”

Sansa snorted at the thought of anyone needing to worry about Jon growing lustful for power. Tyrion sighed heavily next to her and looked up to meet her eyes. “There is something I need to speak with you of now. Assuming those three do as we ask, we need to hold a trial. Cersei.” Sansa felt her body stiffen and her blood run cold at the name.

Tyrion swallowed thickly and looked back down the hallway. “She sits in the black cells and my aunt is due to arrive within a day or two. We should figure out what to do before my aunt shows up. I doubt she is pleased with me for killing her brother. I also doubt she will want Cersei executed in a manner you would find pleasing and worthy of her crimes. We need to move quickly.”

Sansa looked to Tyrion curiously. “You mean to expedite so that I can have my revenge?” Tyrion inhaled and closed his eyes for a moment to collect himself. “I can never make up for what my family has done to you. I can’t bring your loved ones back or heal the traumas of those still alive; including your own. I can however ensure this much is yours. Jaime told me of your reaction when the letter arrived at Winterfell regarding the attack on the fleet and capture of Missandei.”

Sansa felt a slight shame flood over her. She knew the twins had been _close_ once and while Jaime had very clearly moved on, Cersei was still his sister. The mother of his deceased children. She could have been gentler in her insinuation that Daenerys would very likely destroy Cersei, but her hatred for Jaime’s twin broke through her mask in that moment.

Sansa looked to Tyrion. “What were you thinking?” Tyrion scratched his head. “Truthfully, I don’t know. She can’t be kept alive, that much is clear. Jon and I thought that you should pass the sentence. I approached Jaime before the council today and he felt the same.”

Sansa was surprised to hear that the Lannister brothers felt it best to leave control in her hands, but it made her take pause. She hated Cersei and wanted to see her dead, but she also didn’t want to hurt Jaime and Tyrion. Underneath their anger towards Cersei, they were siblings. Could I ever wish to see Bran or Arya killed if they did something horrible that I didn’t support?

“I should like to see her first.” At her words, Tyrion blanched and looked to her in surprise. “I’ve been running from Cersei for too long. I want to face her before determining a proper punishment for what she has done.” Tyrion nodded in understanding. “When would you be ready to speak with her?”

Sansa felt a small smile tug at her lips. “I think now is as good a time as any.” Stopping at the hall to collect Ser Addam who had the cell keys, Sansa followed the two men down towards the black cells. As they descended lower, Ser Addam grabbed a torch from the wall and guided them deeper towards the rows of cells in the dark, musty bowels of the castle.

As they stood outside one of the cell doors, Sansa steeled herself and donned her mask. The door creaked open and the torchlight slowly filled the small space. From the corner of the cell, Sansa could see Cersei curled in a ball, rocking back and forth like a madwoman. Her hair was cropped short but covered in filth to match the dirt on her face, clothing, and hands. The cell stank of feces and urine and Cersei smiled menacingly at the sight of Addam, Tyrion, and Sansa before her. _Gods. I don’t even know this woman._

“There she is. The little bird flew home after all this time. Where is my brother!? I told you Tyrion that if you came back here one more time without Jaime than I would gut you myself!”

Tyrion sighed loudly next to Sansa. “Cersei, we’ve been through this. Jaime knows you are here. If he hasn’t visited it is because he has no desire to see you.”

“Liar! He is my twin! My other half! He can’t survive without me. He is _nothing_ without me. We will rule together. Take back what is ours! We will start a new line of kings stronger than the last!” Cersei began rocking more aggressively from her seated position and Sansa watched as Addam and Tyrion huffed in irritation.

“He hasn’t come to you because he has been busy with his betrothed.” Sansa grinned as she spoke the words. She could hear the malice in her own voice and enjoyed the pain and anger that washed over Cersei.

“Betrothed!?” Cersei stood shakily from her seated position on the floor and moved towards Sansa, but the chains at her ankles halted her progress.

Sansa felt her lips tug into a vicious smile. “To Lady Brienne of Tarth of course. The very woman he marched an army of 8,000 strong to free from imprisonment here. The very woman who killed the madqueen. People call for them to rule together. Their love united all of Westeros.”

“Lies! Enough of this filth. Jaime would never betray me! Never abandon me! He is nothing without me telling him what to do! That fucking cow could never have him.” Cersei was trembling with rage and Addam snorted at Cersei’s words.

“Easy now Cers. Wouldn’t want you to pop a blood vessel. Lady Stark doesn’t lie. I’ve seen it for myself. Your brother is smitten with a woman worth fighting for.” Sansa was surprised to hear Addam speak this way to Cersei, but given his closeness with Jaime, Sansa suspected that Addam had never much cared for Cersei.

“And Lady Brienne is no cow. She is far more beautiful than you could ever be. Younger too. Much more likely to give him that brood of children he seems so eager to plant in her.” Sansa’s words did something to Cersei. Cersei started muttering and stumbling backwards; reaching for the wall to find purchase. “Younger. More beautiful. No. It can’t be.”

Sansa looked to Tyrion and Addam who were equally perplexed by Cersei’s reaction. Then Sansa saw it. Tears. Cersei Lannister stood before them crying. Sansa had so much she wanted to say. So many things she wanted to do to this wretched woman. All of that faded away when she realized that she had won. She was still alive. Still strong and free. Cersei was going to die. She lost her crown, her freedom, and now her twin; the one thing she assumed she would always have control over.

Sansa turned to Tyrion. “Everything else I have to say to her can wait for the execution. I’ve seen enough for today. Thank you.”


	25. Jaime XI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon's coronation and Cersei's execution. 
> 
> Note: The first part is NSFW

Jaime’s eyes fluttered open and he slowly took in his surroundings. Brienne was laying across his left arm and chest; her head tucked under his chin and their legs intertwined. A cool breeze drifted in from the balcony and a hint of the sea hit Jaime’s nose for the first time since he returned to King’s Landing. Prior to that, all he could smell was the destruction. The smell of burnt bodies, buildings, and wares hung heavy over the city.

Jaime considered the woman on his chest sleeping peacefully. He had never dreamed a day would come when he could wake up like this with the woman he loved; without shame, panic, or fear. Jaime smirked as he remembered the prior night’s activities. Moon tea would stand little chance against the assault on Brienne’s womb; Selwyn’s warnings be damned.

Tracing little patterns on Brienne’s naked back, Jaime smiled as he felt her rouse from slumber. Her voice croaked and was thick with sleep. “Jaime. What time is it?” Jaime looked out the window and saw the rising sun peeking through the cloud of smoke and ash that had yet to break over the capital. “Time to pound on your father’s door and demand your moon tea.”

Brienne snorted and moved to sit up, but Jaime grabbed her waist and pulled her back down. “No. Just a little while longer. I don’t want to face this day.” Jaime felt Brienne flinch at his words. “I’m certain no one will mind if you stay away from Cersei’s execution.”

Jaime pulled back his head slightly to look at Brienne. “I can’t say I’m looking forward to that, but it’s the bloody coronation I was referencing.” Brienne sighed and placed her head back on Jaime’s chest. “I do hope Sansa speaks to Jon this morning. He can’t show up all in black with that scowl on his face looking like the Stranger himself is set to preside over the event.”

Jaime snorted at the image of Jon’s less than enthusiastic personality being on full display for all of King’s Landing and the major houses collected in the city. _At least he’ll be sober. That’s an improvement from Cersei and Robert._

Jaime rolled Brienne onto her back and positioned himself over her right side. Peppering kisses down her jaw, he slipped his right knee between her legs and leaned against her side; his hardening cock jutting into her hipbone. No sooner than Jaime shifted to position himself between her legs, a knock came at the door.

“We’re not here!” Jaime yelled in between deep kisses and Brienne smiled into his lips. The knocking grew louder, but Jaime ignored them instead pushing his cock deep into Brienne; capturing her mouth to stifle the words threatening to request he stop.

“Sers, Lady Sansa sent me with proper attire for the day.” Jaime felt Brienne tense at Pod’s voice. Chuckling, Jaime continued his steady rhythm and yelled back to Pod. “I’m already wearing what I like.” Brienne hit his arm and opened her mouth to reprimand him, but as Jaime angled slightly and found _that_ spot he had discovered last night, Brienne instead covered the moan that started to spill from her mouth.

“I understand ser, but Lady Sansa insists on this attire.” _Fucking Pod. Loyal and persistent as ever_. Brienne gripped Jaime’s back and her walls tightened around his cock. Jaime began panting as his paced quickened. “Hold on Pod... Brienne’s… coming…” Brienne’s eyes went wide in shock at Jaime’s suggestive remark. Jaime’s mouth tugged into a smile as he slowly concluded the sentence. “…to the door. Almost… there.” Jaime’s pace began to quicken and his mouth dropped to Brienne’s neck.

“Should I come in then?” Jaime heard the sound of the door handle move from the other side. “No!” Brienne screamed; a mix of fear and pleasure. Jaime couldn’t bite back the laugh that escaped from his lips, but the feel of Brienne’s contracting walls sent him over the edge. “Fuck!” Brienne’s hand quickly moved to cover Jaime’s mouth as he screamed her name into Brienne’s palm; his seed pouring deep into her womb.

As they both lay panting, it quickly occurred to them that Pod had in fact opened the door and the shock of the sight before him must have caused the squire to drop the clothes to the floor. Brienne looked at Jaime in complete terror as Jaime screamed for Pod to get out. Pod stuttered as he frantically tried to shut the door. “I’m trying ser!” The clothing had obstructed Pod’s ability to make an escape and the young man fell to his hands and knees pushing the garments out of the way while trying to shimmy the door closed.

As the door finally slammed shut, Jaime looked back to Brienne who was covering her reddened face. Jaime began chuckling which only served to irritate Brienne. “He must feel as though he walked in on his own mother.” Brienne slapped his arm and glared at him, but Jaime kept needling her. “Maybe we should name the babe after him since he was here to witness its conception.”

“I hate you.” Brienne pulled the pillow over her face as Jaime kept chuckling, ignoring the pain in his broken ribs from the physical exertion and laughter. Jaime trailed kisses down Brienne’s chest until he reached the sensitive nub between her legs. Brienne gasped as his tongue brushed over her. Her hand fisted into his hair as she flung the pillow off her face and to the floor. Her actions only encouraged Jaime’s assault and he smiled into her before continuing his ministrations; bringing her over the edge again.

“You’re horrible.” Brienne gasped for breath as Jaime stretched back out beside her; his breath warm on her neck. “I have a lot of time to make up for.” Jaime snorted and Brienne turned into him. “Must you do it all in the course of a day? I won’t be able to walk to the coronation.” Smiling into her neck, Jaime huffed a laugh. “I can tell them to come to us if you prefer. That ought to get a reaction out of Jon other than his usual scowl.”

Brienne swatted Jaime and stood to retrieve the clothes Pod had shoved into the room before making his hasty retreat. Jaime watched her naked form and mused how he would have the pleasure of seeing her naked body for the rest of his life. She was lean with subtle, feminine curves. Her long legs made his cock twitch with thoughts of how they could wrap around him twice over.

“I’m not wearing this.” Brienne threw the clothing on the bed and Jaime sat up to inspect it. With a heavy sigh, he looked at the ensemble and ran a hand through his hair.

Jaime and Brienne made their way towards the great hall to break their fast. Upon arrival, Sansa’s eyes widened in delight at the sight of them in the attire she had sent Pod with. Pod looked less eager to see them. A blush spread across his face and neck as he turned to stare intently at his porridge.

Jaime grabbed Brienne’s hand and pulled her towards the table where Sansa, Pod, Selwyn, Bronn, and Addam sat. Sansa stood to appraise her work. Brienne had been sent a pair of very fitted black breeches that were only exposed just below the knee. Over it, she wore a long, form-fitting, blue tunic that was tight at the waist and showed off her lean body and subtly curved hips. The top of the shirt cut under her breasts in a way that gave the impression she was full chested, and the neckline was low cut. The sleeves were long and a sigil of Tarth adorned the fabric on the left sleeve. Of course, Brienne had added Oathkeeper to the ensemble. The sword belt fashioned tightly around her lean waist.

“Perfect! Brienne you look the combination of the warrior and the maid.” Jaime guffawed at the word ‘maid’ and earned a glare from Brienne. He had to admit however that Brienne looked amazing in her attire. Sansa had done a wonderful job enhancing her feminine features while also showcasing her as the knight she was. Jaime’s eyes landed on Tormund at the other end of the hall who was slack jawed and staring at Brienne. _That’s right. She is glorious and all mine. The soon to be Ser Brienne Lannister of Tarth._

Sansa then turned to Jaime and took appraisal of the man. She had sent him matching black breeches; though his were looser fitting. He wore a gold tunic covered by a crimson red, leather jerkin which boasted the Lannister sigil over the left breast of the jerkin. Like Brienne, he had his sword belt around his hips.

Sansa waved her hand in dismissal and shrugged nonchalantly. “It will do I suppose.” Jaime quirked his brow and feigned offense. “I know, that you know, that I am _very_ pretty.” Brienne and Sansa exchanged a look at his words and Sansa grabbed Brienne’s arm before nodding towards Jaime. “Thank you for bearing _this_ burden for us all. I know this is even more difficult than playing Lord Commander to Jon.” Brienne offered a small smile. “Thank you, my lady. Seven give me strength.”

Jaime scoffed as Sansa moved to reclaim her seat. They broke their fast and quickly made their way outside to where the coronation was to be held. The citizens and armies were already amassing at the base of the platform; everyone eager to catch a glimpse of King Jon the kingslayers. At the sight of Jaime and Brienne speaking with several nobility on the raised platform, the crowd began to point and yell in excitement. The armies of the West and Stormlands bellowed loudly; their chests swelling with pride. With nervous waves at the crowd calling their names, Jaime and Brienne gritted their teeth and spoke to one another in hushed tones.

“Gods this is going to be horrible.” Brienne had a fake smile plastered across her face as she acknowledged the crowd below. “Just smile and remember… we will pay Jon back tenfold for this.” Jaime mirrored her fake smile as he waved at the shouts of his name.

When the ceremony began Jon emerged from the castle. In obvious effort to show solidarity, Sansa had also fitted Jon in black breeches. His tunic was bright red, an obvious nod to his Targaryen birth right that he would claim, but it was covered in a smart looking light gray jerkin which had the Stark sigil over the breast of the jerkin. His hair had been pulled back into a tight bun and the young man reminded Jaime of a young Ned Stark. Jaime bit back a laugh as he took in Jon’s tight, forced smile. 

The ceremony was quick. The crowd accepted Jon’s crown, but it was made obvious this was only because he was flanked by slayers of Targaryen madness. When Jon announced Jaime as his hand and Brienne as his lord commandeer, the crowd went wild with excitement. All houses came together in celebration of their new leading trio and a small feast supplied soldiers, nobility, and citizens alike with ale and food.

Later that afternoon, Jon called a small group into private chambers as Cersei was summoned from the black cells. Jon had ordered Cersei be well fed that day and a bath offered so she could face her death with dignity. In the small room, Jon sat in a chair with Jaime and Brienne to his left and Sansa and Tyrion to his right.

As hand and Lord Commander, Jaime and Brienne were required to attend Cersei’s final sentencing. As brother to the former queen, Tyrion had been granted audience. As judge and jury, Sansa was present. The door as the back of the room opened and Cersei entered. She was flanked by Addam on the right and Arya on the left. Cersei was dressed in her house colors; an outfit properly befitting her station.

Jon stood as Cersei was brought to stand before them. “Lady Cersei.” Cersei tilted her chin up defiantly and scanned the room. When her eyes landed on Jaime, she stiffened and rage pooled in her eyes. “How dare you betray me! And for that fucking cow.”

“Quiet Cersei. That’s your future goodsister you speak of. The future Lady of the Rock. You’re in no position to hurl insults at my betrothed.” Cersei’s lips curled into a vicious smile. “Tell me brother, does the cow bend over for you or do you bend over for the cow.” Jaime’s temper flared and his body tensed, but Brienne placed a calming hand on his arm and muttered under her breath. “Don’t. Remember what I told you.”

Jaime felt his body ease at Brienne’s words. As always, she was his guiding light. Too good for this world. Earlier that day, she had pulled Jaime aside to insist she step out when Cersei’s time came. Brienne thought it best to give Jaime and Tyrion their time alone with Cersei. Jaime fought it initially, but Brienne was adamant and her reasoning sound. “She is your twin sister. You’ve been through a lot together. You loved her once. She had your children even if not in name. Don’t live with the regret of not affording her some kindness when she dies.”

Sansa stood abruptly. “Cersei Lannister, for the innumerous crimes committed against humanity, the people of the Seven Kingdoms and King’s Landing. The crimes against the other great houses. The crimes against _my family_. You have been found guilty. I fear if we attempted to list all your crimes individually, a new Lannister, your niece or nephew, would be here before the task done. Do you have any last words?”

Cersei’s face twisted in anger and pain as she looked back to Jaime. He felt a smile tug at his lips as he grabbed Brienne’s hand in his. Turning to look at Brienne, the love of his live, he whispered to her. “I love you.” _Gods I hope Sansa’s barb about a little Lannister is true_. Looking back towards his sister, he saw the hurt flash through her face. Cersei looked back to Sansa and tried to collect herself, but the disgraced queen could only shake her head in denial.

Sansa took a breath. “Then I, Sansa Stark of Winterfell, sentence you to die. Unlike the tortures you have inflicted on others, I will offer none, but only out of kindness for your brothers. More specifically, my former husband and goodbrother. My friends.” Sansa smiled as she looked to the Lannister brothers. Producing a vile, she turned to Tyrion who reached for a cup of wine. Sansa poured the vile into the cup and turned back to Cersei.

“Unlike your methods of execution, I will follow your twin’s example. A small kindness. This is what Lady Tyrell was given. It is quick and painless. Well more than you deserve. You will drink this now before us. If you refuse, Arya will do the honors with her blade.” Cersei turned to meet the young wolf’s eyes; a tight grin spread across Arya’s face. 

Jaime had been shocked when Sansa approached him before the execution to inform him that she would not see Cersei tortured. Given everything his family had done to Sansa’s, Jaime felt unworthy of her kindness towards his sister. Cersei would not have done the same for Sansa nor anyone. Not even himself.

Jaime looked on as Tyrion walked the glass of wine towards Cersei. _Just drink it Cers. Don’t do this the hard way._ Cersei sneered at Tyrion and took the cup. With a final look towards Jaime, she swallowed the liquid in one lengthy sip. As Tyrion took back the cup, Jon stood and escorted Sansa out; Arya and Addam steps behind. Brienne stood to leave and offered a small smile to Jaime.

Grabbing Brienne’s hand before she left, Jaime pulled her into a kiss. “Thank you.” Brienne nodded and squeezed his arm before leaving the room to enable Tyrion and Jaime a final moment with their sister.

Cersei laughed sardonically and looked between her brothers; her eyes landing on Tyrion. As her laughter died, she dropped to her knees and began to cry messily; refusing to break eye contact with Tyrion. “And you. Of course, you bring me the final glass. Valonqar.” Jaime walked to stand at Tyrion’s side. Tyrion reached a hand to Cersei’s shoulder which only served to illicit more wracked sobs from their sister. Jaime slowly sank to his knees and put his left hand on Cersei’s shoulder; mirroring Tyrion’s gesture.

Looking up at him, Cersei’s eyes were clouded with tears which poured from the corners. Jaime felt sadness for the loss of the little girl he once knew. The girl who ran the grounds of the Rock with him and made him laugh. The girl with so much ambition and talent. He had lost her long ago. He lamented that he had never been a proper brother to her. Cersei then looked to Tyrion who Jaime observed had tears in his eyes as well.

Cersei lunged into their arms and the brothers held her there in a firm embrace as her tears slowly stopped along with her breathing and heartbeat.


	26. Brienne VIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two moons later, the wedding is nearly here. A little update on things in King's Landing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is the wedding and the last is 7 years later. If things seem a bit vague/ambiguous here, you would be correct! The last chapter really paints the full picture.

Two moons had passed since Jon’s coronation. Two moons since Cersei’s death. Two moons since the beginning of a new Westeros. The armies had returned to their homes and most of the lords and ladies to their castles. True to his word, Jon only held council with Jaime and Brienne.

Jaime wanted to wed Brienne the day he proposed, but Selwyn insisted that the couple marry in front of a septon. As Selwyn predicted however, Genna arrived and promptly took over planning. A quick turnaround wedding no longer an option, Jaime and Brienne begrudging accepted that they had lost all control over the event the moment Aunt Genna marched into King’s Landing.

At first, Brienne was uncertain what to make of Genna. In some ways, the woman reminded her of the brief exposure she had to Tywin; commanding and strong. In other ways, the woman reminded her of Tyrion; intelligent and scheming. At times, Genna reminded her of Jaime; protective with a tough exterior, but a ball of mush on the inside.

Both Tyrion and Sansa had remained in King’s Landing given the timing of the wedding which was to take place on the morrow. Sansa expressed that there was little point in her making the journey north only to arrive and immediately turn right back around. Brienne believed that Tyrion only stayed because of Sansa. She had observed the pair together and found herself wondering if there was something more to their friendship. Something deeper that both longed for but refused to express.

Brienne lay on her back in Sam’s makeshift maester’s office while Gilly poked and prodded at her in the most unfortunate of areas. Moments later, Gilly’s face hoovered over Brienne; a giant smile spread across her face. “Well, I would say you’re going to have your hands full in about seven moon’s time.”

Sitting upright, Brienne gaped at her. “You’re certain?” Gilly smiled reassuringly and squeezed Brienne’s arm. “Very much so. Take this for the sickness. If you can start keeping down more food and water, the fainting will likely pass.” Brienne stared at the girl, wide-eyed in shock. Placing a hand delicately over her lower stomach, she marveled at the realization that there was a little lion in there.

Brienne pulled up her smallclothes and breeches as Gilly washed her hands. Sitting back onto the exam table, Brienne turned to the wildling woman, worry heavy in her voice. “Will the babe be alright? I haven’t been able to each much.” Gilly turned to face her, a wide smile on her face. “The babe will be just fine! I couldn’t stop throwing up with little Sam and now look at him! I can’t slow the boy down.”

Brienne smiled at the woman’s reassurance, but her thoughts were interrupted by the door to the office swinging open violently. “Brienne! Gods! Are you alright? Pod said you fainted!” Jaime ran over and began frantically looking her over for signs of injury. Gill cast coy smile at Brienne and quickly exited the room, leaving the knights alone.

“I’m fine Jaime! Gods you can stop fussing over me like a mother hen.” Brienne brushed his hand away as Jaime stood upright and the concern on his face eased slightly. “What did the girl say? You’ve seemed off lately. You’re barely eating. Is this all too much for you? Forget Snow! I’ll take you away from this city immediately if it’s too much. When I was lord commander, I oft felt the same. I knew this would be too stressful! I told that idiot brother of mine..”

“Jaime!” Brienne cut off Jaime’s rambling and grabbed his hand. “I said I’m fine.” She bit her lip and placed Jaime’s hand over her belly. “Gilly says this will pass in seven moons.” Jaime’s brows furrowed. “Seven moons! Gods woman what kind of illness..” Realization dawned over Jaime’s face and he looked to where Brienne held his hand. Looking back to Brienne, tears flooded his eyes. “Really!? A babe!?”

Brienne nodded and smiled widely at Jaime who pulled her into a searing kiss. Jaime’s arms circled around her waist as he stood between her legs which hung over the edge of the table. Abruptly Jaime pulled back and ran his hand through his hair. “I’m going to be a father! A real father this time!” Jaime placed his hand on Brienne’s belly again and beamed. “Seven more moons… that means” Brienne could see Jaime calculating backwards in his head. “… its little Pod in there!” _Oh_ _gods_.

Brienne snorted and cupped Jaime’s face. “Yes Jaime, you’re going to be a father. But first you need to live to see that day. Mayhap you should tell my father someplace other than the training yard. Ideally a crowded place with too many witnesses.” The pair chuckled together as Jaime grabbed Brienne’s wrist and stroked the back of her hand with his thumb.

An hour later after a little private celebration, Brienne and Jaime made their way to Jon’s solar for their daily council meeting. Jaime’s wide smile had yet to leave his face since finding out about ‘little Pod’. Bursting through the door to Jon’s solar, Jaime announced themselves loudly. “Snow! I’ll have none of your brooding today. Not even your sour face can ruin my mood.” Jon turned around and rolled his eyes.

King Jon stood on his balcony overlooking the city below, a cup of water in hand. Jaime marched over and took the water cup from Jon’s hand, chucking it over his shoulder. “Enough of that now, we need wine. You drink wine, don’t you? Maybe ale? Giant’s milk? Should I fetch Tormund?”

Jon snorted and looked to Brienne. “What’s got him going now? Did Genna agree to cancel tomorrow and let you wed in private tonight?” Brienne felt a small smile tug at her lips. Every day Jaime had schemed how best to escape Genna’s over the top wedding plans and marry in secret under the light of the moon and stars. Every day Jaime sulked and bit his tongue as Genna brought in processions of vendors to show the knights all the over the top décor she was pulling together for the event.

Jaime bent at the waist, his face mere inches from Brienne’s belly, and pointed to Brienne’s non-existent bump with a smug smile on his face. “I did that.” Jon cocked a brow and looked to Brienne for help. “I put ‘little Pod’ in there.”

Brienne groaned and covered her face with her hands. _Gods help me. It is going to be a long seven moons._ Jon guffawed and clapped Jaime on the back. “Congratulations to you both. That’s wonderful. I’ve no doubt little Pod will be anything but little. The babe will probably be knocking the rest of the Kingsguard into the dust by the age of two.”

Jaime beamed and puffed out his chest. Jon walked to a side table that had a pitcher and cups. “And yes, I drink wine.” Jon poured two glasses and cast a glance towards Brienne who shook her head in denial. The thought of anything except water sent bile into her throat. The three sat down at the table to begin reviewing their standing topics.

“And Ser Kent? Has he set a date?” Brienne nodded. “He plans to wed in two moons. His betrothed arrives in one moon so we’ll need to change his current room in the White sword tower to the larger one.” One of the changes all three agreed on from the start was that the members of the Kingsguard should be allowed to marry.

Jon also liked the idea of having a Kingsguard selected from each kingdom as a sign of unity. Of course, Brienne’s proudest accomplishment as Lord Commander knighting and naming her chosen Kinsguard to represent the West, Ser Podrick Payne.

Jon turned to Jaime. “Has the Stormlands responded?” Jaime glanced tentatively at Brienne, an apologetic look forming across his face. “Yes, they’ve selected Lord Tarth as Paramount.” Jon sighed and also looked to Brienne with sympathy. She huffed and sat back in her chair, running her head. _I’ll deal with this later._

Trying to change the subject, Jon moved to the topic of Dorne. “Any word from Dorne?” Brienne watched as Jaime rolled his head from side to side and exhaled dramatically. _Oh no. Here we go._ “Yes, they’ve chosen Lord Edric Dayne of Starfall to replace the extinct Martell House as Prince of Dorne. How delightful. You know how much I love anyone going by the name ‘Ned’. Your father… uncle… whatever… would be most pleased. He enjoyed mooning over the Daynes as much as you enjoy brooding over life.”

Jon huffed in annoyance. “Are you truly going to start with me today?” Jaime feigned innocence and shrugged at the young king. “I would never! I’m only here to lend a _hand_.” Jon groaned. “Stop, no. I can’t do this today.” Brienne watched as Jon buried his head in his hands, preparing for the onslaught. “I’m sorry you think me such a _hand_ ful. I think I’m rather _hand_ y.” Jon threw back his head and exhaled loudly. “You need to stop.”

Jaime huffed in response. “Fine. Do you want an update on the unemployed in the city?” Jon looked up hopefully, but then his face dropped when he saw Jaime’s smirk. “I had a few thoughts on how to best aid the unemployed, but none of them work.”

Jon looked at Brienne in despair. “Why is it so bad?” Brienne bit her lip and shook her head as Jaime leaned forward in his chair. “Do you know what’s bad? A blunt sword. It’s pointless.” _Wow, alright. I should stop him._

“Jaime. I think you’ve done enough for today.” Brienne heard Jon mutter his appreciation before she continued. “I can _hand_ le it from here.” Jaime guffawed and leaned on his seat towards Brienne; mirth heavy in his tone. “Oh Gods, I love you. I’m so proud of you.” Jon grunted in annoyance and stood from his chair.

“Alright I can’t. I just can’t today.” Walking back to the table, Jon poured himself some more wine and rubbed his forehead before raising the cup to his lips. Jaime and Brienne stood and gave a slight bow. Jaime piped up as they headed for the door. “You know, there is always the option of getting a new hand and Lord Commander. Just an off _hand_ ed thought.”

“Go! Prepare for your wedding! I’ll see you both on the morrow. You deserve one another, truly.” Jaime and Brienne chuckled as they exited into the hallway. Taking Brienne’s hand, Jaime grinned at her. “We’ve successfully cut short another small council. I think you truly sent him over the edge this time.”

Brienne returned Jaime’s grin and bumped his shoulder. “Yes, well your jokes were getting pretty bad. As Lord Commander I’m really the last line of defense.” Jaime feigned offense and clutched at his heart. “You wound me Ser. Just wait until next week’s _hand_ material. I expect to hear back from Bronn on those matters in _the Reach_.”

Brienne rolled her eyes and tugged Jaime down the hallway. “Come along. We have lunch with Tyrion, Sansa, my father and your aunt.” Jaime groaned and wrapped his arms around Brienne, slowing their progress greatly. “How about you, me, and ‘little Pod’ go back to our room instead?” Jaime’s hand drifted to Brienne’s breast and squeezed as he leaned in to kiss her neck.

“Jaime.” Jaime hummed into her neck as Brienne continued. “We will not call the babe ‘little Pod’ when it concerns our time in bed.” Jaime conceded the point and the pair continued to the veranda where Genna insisted on having lunch. The setup reminded Brienne of her brief time with Lady Olenna Tyrell some years ago after escorting Jaime back to King’s Landing.

 _How different things were then_. Brienne looked to Jaime who was still glowing from the day’s events. His hair was cropped as short as it had been trimmed after their return from the Riverlands. He was freshly shaven, and his hair shone golden in the warm sun over King’s Landing. The north had darkened his golden locks, but the past two moons in King’s Landing restored the color greatly.

The city itself had truly begun returning to live. The castle grounds and city streets were free of ash. The thick cloud of smoke and ash had long lifted from the city skies and the building repairs looked better each day. Sansa had taken on a personal project of working with the displaced children of the city who found themselves without parents and homes after Daenerys’ destruction.

As they neared the table, Genna stood at the sight of the knights. Rushing around the table, she pinched Jaime’s ear adoringly. “There he is!” Brienne observed the close, private conversation being held by Sansa and Tyrion. Tyrion’s hand lingered on Sansa’s as he finished a jape and the young woman flushed slightly. _Very interesting_.

Selwyn stood to greet Brienne. “Child. How are you feeling? I heard you fainted in the yard earlier.” At Selwyn’s comment, Genna rounded on her. “Gods! You’re not ill, are you? The wedding is on the morrow!”

Brienne smiled nervously. “No, I’m fine. Truly. Nothing to fuss over.” Brienne cast a desperate glance at Jaime. _Help me!_ “She’s fine. I spoke to Gilly myself.” At Jaime’s words, Tyrion’s voice carried over the group. “Gilly? Why would she look after Brienne? Where is Sam? Gilly is just…” Cutting off his own words, Tyrion’s eyes went wide and he looked to Sansa who donned the same expression; a small smile tugging at her lips.

 _Oh no_. Brienne looked back frantically to Jaime whose face reddened, and he stammered inarticulately. “Out with it boy! What is going on?” Brienne shook her head, imploring Jaime to keep his mouth shut, but it was a lost cause. “I didn’t do it.”

 _Really? That’s your defense?_ “Didn’t do what!?” Genna now looked as confused as Selwyn, but Tyrion and Sansa burst into laughter. “Well I mean I did. Evidently. Seven hells.” Before Brienne could step in to say something and stop Jaime’s prattling on, Sansa had her arms wrapped tightly around Brienne. “Congratulations!”

Brienne felt herself pale as her father’s eyes locked on hers and realization hit him. Selwyn narrowed his eyes and slowly turned his head back to Jaime. Jaime offered a pathetic, nervous chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. “Couldn’t find the moon tea.” 


	27. Jaime XII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding day is here.

“Hold still Jaime! Your hair is too short! It won’t stay down in the back.” Genna stood in front of Jaime fussing with his hair while he sat impatiently on the edge of the bed. She took a step back to appraise her work, a pleased smile tugging at her lips. “There! Now you look more the part.”  
  
Jaime looked to Tyrion who sat at the table near the balcony; a cup of wine raised to his lips to hide a mocking smile. It had taken some effort on Jaime’s part to keep Genna and Tyrion from tearing one another apart. Genna still harbored anger over Tywin’s death and Tyrion still harbored resentment over Genna refusing to see his side of things.  
  
Genna’s face softened as she grabbed Jaime’s chin and forced their eyes to meet. “You are definitely your mother’s son. She would be very proud.” Jaime felt a smile tug at his lips. “Aunt Genna are you going soft on us?” Genna hit Jaime's arm and tugged his ear. “Do shut up! Also, Tywin would have wanted me to remind you that it took long enough! Your grandbabes should be at the Rock by now.” Jaime rolled his eyes and Genna smoothed over his hair one last time.  
  
Turning to face Tyrion, Genna forced a smile and grit her teeth. “Nephew. Shall we leave your brother be?” Tyrion returned the false smile and nodded. “Yes. I just want a minute alone with my brother if you don’t mind sweet aunt.” Genna huffed and turned back to face Jaime. “Very well. I look forward to seeing this wedding. Fitting you end up with a knight who can knock you to your ass. I bet those legs of hers don’t hurt to look at either.” Genna cast a wink at Jaime as she turned on heel and strode out the door, her chin held high in the most Lannister of ways.  
  
Tyrion hopped down from his chair and walked over to Jaime, two cups of wine in hand, and offered one to his brother. Jaime took the cup and the brothers toasted. Thinking on his brother and aunt, Jaime smirked after taking a sip of his wine. “I do hope you two don’t murder one another at the Rock in my absence.”  
  
Tyrion rolled his eyes. “Don’t ask too much of me. Aunt Genna now looks at me as Cersei used to.” Jaime sighed and looked to Tyrion. “Aunt Genna does not hate you. She is upset. If you recall, you did kill her brother.” Tyrion feigned innocence and shock. “Well he wasn’t even the best brother of the lot! It’s not like I killed Kevan. I didn’t see Genna plotting Cersei’s demise for that one!”  
  
Jaime groaned and drank some more wine. “She didn’t send Cersei aid in the war against Daenerys. That’s basically the same thing.” Tyrion conceded the point and looked to Jaime intently. “Enough about our family’s tendency to kill each other off. How are you feeling?” Tyrion sat on the bed next to Jaime as he awaited response.  
  
Jaime felt a smile tug at his lips as he looked out the window, thoughts of Brienne swirled in his mind. Tyrion chuckled and broke Jaime’s daydream. Jaime's brows furrowed as he looked questioningly at his younger brother. “What?” Tyrion laughed again and shook his head. “I always know when you’re thinking of her. You get that ridiculous look on your face. I remember the first time I noticed it at Winterfell when you stood atop the battlements pining for her.”  
  
Jaime scoffed as a knowing smile played at Tyrion’s lips. “I was not pining! I was...” _Well...fine. I suppose that I was pining_. Jaime felt Tyrion’s hand grab his arm in a bid to reclaim his attention. “I’m happy for you. I’m happy that you’re happy. I’m glad you finally have to climb for it.” The brothers exchanged a laugh at the younger Lannister’s words.  
  
Then Tyrion’s eyes shone with mischief. “Plus, Genna has the right of it. Those legs... you must be enjoying them to have her with child already.” Tyrion raised his brows suggestively and Jaime swatted his brother chest. “Hey! You nearly got me killed! The next time you figure things out, I would appreciate if you would keep it to yourself! My goodfather only spared me as he didn’t want his grandbabe coming into the world as a bastard. Once the wedding is over though...” Jaime considered the various forms of torment Selwyn may inflict after the vows.  
  
Tyrion waved Jaime off and drank more of his wine. “I like Selwyn. Seems a good father. Far better than our own. I envy you. You’re building a wonderful, new family.” Jaime turned to see Tyrion’s smile fall. “You’re my family Tyron. I’m not building a new family. I’m adding to the one I have. The proper way this time.” 

The brothers exchanged a small smile, but Tyrion’s face became serious again. “If it weren’t for you, I never survived my childhood.” Jaime looked into Tyrion’s eyes and put a hand on his shoulder. “You would have.” At his words, Tyrion looked away briefly and shook his head in denial. When Tyrion turned back to Jaime, his eyes shone with unshed tears. “You were the only one that didn’t treat me like a monster. You were all I had.”  
  
Jaime pulled Tyrion into a firm hug. They sat there like that for a moment before Tyrion pulled back and wiped a stray tear. Puffing up his chest and putting on his best Tywin impersonation, Tyrion looked at Jaime as he slid off the bed. “Enough of this. We are Lannister men. We don’t feel.”  
  
Jaime chuckled and stood from his seated position. “Point well made. I’m ready to go do my duty to House Lannister. Lets pray to the Seven for a successful bedding to further the dynasty.” Walking towards the door, Jaime looked down at his brother once more. “Tyrion.” Tyrion slowly raised his head meet Jaime's eyes. “I meant what I said. You’re only getting more family out of this; a new sister. I think you’ll like this one.”   
  
Tyrion smiled widely at Jaime’s words. “I know I will. She saved my brother. Reminded him of the good man he is. Brought him back to me.” With one last smile, the brothers left the room and began walking towards the front entrance of the castle. As they neared the castle door, Sansa approaching from another corridor. Jaime did not miss the smile in Tyrion’s eyes as he looked over the young woman before them.

Sansa came to stop before the brothers. She bent to hug Tyrion warmly and brushed his shoulders; smoothing out his jerkin. “Don’t you look rather Lannister today. I almost forgot what your face looked like without a beard. You have a jawline to rival your obnoxious older brother.” Tyrion snorted and ran both hands over his face. “Yes. I couldn’t let Jaime think he was the only one with a pretty face out there.”

Sansa stood upright and took full appraisal of Jaime. Genna had attired him in black breeches with a deep crimson tunic. Over the tunic, Jaime wore a gold and crimson patterned jerkin with Widow’s Wail strapped to his hip. Sansa hemmed and hawed while futzing with various parts of his clothing. “I mean… its too late to fix this now. I don’t know. I would need another two moons.” Meeting Jaime’s eyes, a small smirk tugged at Sansa’s lips as Jaime scoffed.

“Well that is most unfortunate. If Brienne refuses me, I’ll have no option but to return to the North. I do my best brooding there.” Sansa snorted and clutched her heart. “Oh Gods no! This outfit and face will have to do. I can’t do it again. I simply can’t.” 

Sansa took a deep, steadying breath and looked very seriously to Jaime. “This will only happen once and only here while there is no one to hold this over me for the rest of my days. Come here.” Sansa extended her arms to bring Jaime into a hug. As they embraced, Sansa whispered. “You look very handsome. Now do remember my previous advice and don’t fuck it up.” 

Jaime snorted as they ended the embrace. Sansa turned back to Tyrion who extended an arm towards her. “Shall we my lady? I want to get a good seat so I can watch the groom make a fool of himself drooling over his bride for all to see.” The pair walked off and left Jaime standing alone with this thoughts. As Jaime took a breath and moved to follow, he heard Jon call his name. “Ser Jaime!” 

Turning to face the king, Jaime felt a smile tug at his lips. He threw his arms out dramatically to show off his attire. “I’m ready to go. Do you think your Lord Commander will deem me  _ hand _ some enough?” Jon rolled his eyes. “Just one day. Please, no hand jokes.” 

Jaime sighed and threw up his arms in mock surrender. “I mean it is  _ my _ wedding, but I suppose if his majesty comm- _ hands  _ it, I will oblige.” Jon rubbed his forehead and looked around before turning back to Jaime. “I just wanted to warn you about something.”  _ Oh Gods no. Now what. _ “There might be more in attendance than planned.” 

Jaime felt his face drop. “How many more could there possibly be. My aunt has already invited most of Westeros.” Jon winced at the words, having shared the horror of the massive crowds from the West and Stormlands that had descended upon the city over the last few days. “I… I thought it would be good to open the ceremony to the people of King’s Landing. They adore you and Brienne. Given all they’ve been through, it seems a nice thing to let them in on. Of course, they won’t be at the feast, but they will have access to look on at the ceremony.”

Jaime’s face fell and his mind immediately went to Brienne.  _ She will not like this _ . With a sigh, Jaime rubbed his hand over his face. “I get to make double the hand jokes tomorrow for this. I also can’t guarantee that your lord commander won’t add another Targaryen to her kill list when she realizes what you’ve done.”

Jon huffed a laugh. “Fair enough. Oh and uh…. One other thing.” Jaime whimpered at the words before Jon continued. “Tormund is here. He insisted. Said if Brienne changed her mind, he wanted to be here… just in case.” A crazed laugh escaped Jaime’s lips. “Of course he is. Would he like to attend the bedding too? You know… just in case.” Jon rolled his eyes and clapped Jaime’s shoulder. “Lets go. We wouldn’t want to throw off Genna’s itinerary. She scares me more than any Lannister I've ever met.”

Jaime soon stood on the dais at the dragon pit. It was the only open space left in King’s Landing that could accommodate a wedding of this size. Looking around at the crowd that had amassed, Jaime cringed at the thought of Brienne’s reaction.  _ She will not appreciate this _ . Genna was beaming at him from the front row of seats that had been set out for the family and dignitaries. The massive crowds from the West and Stormlands lined the inside of the dragon pit. Even attendees from the North and Vale who fought alongside the knights at Winterfell had made the trip. 

As Jaime had approached the Dragon Pit nearly fifteen minutes earlier with Jon, the Kingsguard surrounding them less their Commander, Jaime had marveled at how many citizens had lined the walkway. Jon was not japing when he said the people were eager to see their slayers marry. Now as he stood and waited for Brienne, Jaime felt his nerves kick in. Jaime looked towards the Septon who stood next to him. Genna had brought the man from the West and the septon had a presence that reminded Jaime far too much of his father.

Then Jaime heard the shouts of excitement in the distance.  _ Brienne must be here _ . Jaime felt his heart speed up as he looked out in anticipation. Then he saw her. Selwyn stood at her side dressed in Tarth’s colors. He was beaming with pride as he walked Brienne towards the center of the Dragon Pit. 

Brienne for her part looked horrified by the size of the crowd, but her facial features relaxed as her eyes landed on Jaime. Her short blond hair had been parted on the side and angled across her face. It was the most feminine Jaime had ever seen her hair aside from the disarray of her locks in the early mornings when they awoke tangled in each other's limbs. 

She wore a very form fitting full length, long-sleeved, crimson dress. Gold stitching adorned the sleeves, neckline, and hem. Oathkeeper was strapped to her hip. Jaime looked to Genna who had a victorious smile on her face.  _ Genna won the battle over the attire, but Brienne won the battle over the sword. _ Jaime looked back to Brienne. She looked gorgeous and he couldn’t take his eyes off her. 

Tyrion caught Jaime's eye and mouthed “wow”. From beside his brother, Sansa looked pleasantly surprised at the sight of her former sworn sword and she elbowed Arya who seemed to concede the point despite loudly stating her opinion. “I still would have voted for the armor.” As Selwyn brought Brienne before him, Jaime barely looked at the man; unable to take his eyes off Brienne. 

The Septon coughed, breaking Jaime’s revere of the woman before him. “Oh. Sorry, right.” Jaime moved to shake Selwyn’s hand, but the man pulled him into a tight embrace. As Selwyn left the pair to take his seat next to Genna, Jaime turned back to Brienne and moved to kiss her.

The Septon grabbed his arm and shook his head. “Not yet.” Jaime huffed in annoyance and Brienne chuckled along with the family in the audience. “When!?” The Septon looked at Jaime in disbelief. “ _ After _ the vows my lord.” 

Jaime needed the reminder three more times before the ceremony ended. Finally, he was able to give his wife a kiss to seal their union. His heart leapt with joy as he pulled back from the kiss and took in the vision of Brienne in his cloak and house colors.  _ My wife _ . 

The feast passed in a blur. Like Joffrey’s wedding, they ate in the open just outside the castle. Jaime barely noticed the mass of people and those who approached to pay their respects. All he could do was focus on Brienne. “Could you stop gawking at your wife for a moment?” Jaime’s attention was captured by Genna who stood before them. 

Jaime had his right arm around Brienne and was practically sitting in her lap. “What? I don’t see anything better to look at here.” Genna rolled her eyes and gestured to Selwyn who stood next to her. “You two owe us old folks a dance. Come along nephew. Give your aunt a proper turn around the dance floor.” 

Jaime begrudgingly stood from his seat and handed over his wife to her father. He extended his arm to Genna as the four of them made their way to the dance floor. After a turn with each, Pod and Sansa replaced Selwyn and Genna respectively. Jaime heard Pod gush over Brienne and then request that she and Jaime kindly stop referring to the babe as ‘little pod’. “Please my lady. I’m just now beginning to recover from the sight of Ser Jaime’s pale ass in the air.”

Jaime quickly realized that Brienne was in high demand for a turn around the dance floor, but it wasn’t until Tormund approached that he felt a slight pang of jealousy. He watched the pair while talking to Bronn and Tyrion, but when he saw Brienne’s head fall back into a laugh while dancing with the wildling, Jaime couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his lips.  _ So long as she is happy, I suppose I can endure the man dancing with her. _

As the sun began to set, Jaime approached his wife and leaned into her, whispering in her ear. “The dress is quite nice, but I prefer you in your nameday suit.” Brienne laughed and swatted his chest. “I prefer you in your nameday suit than in a dress as well.” Jaime snorted and grabbed her hand. “Get me out of here wench. Unless of course you fancy another dance with Tormund first.” Brienne laughed and began pulling Jaime back towards the castle. “Lets hurry before Bronn calls for a bedding and Tormund offers to remove this dress himself.”

That was enough motivation for Jaime to rush his bride back to the Keep. As they made their way into the room, Jaime noted the wine and platter of food that his aunt must have instructed the staff to leave for them. He caught Brienne making the same observation and used her distraction to lift her in his arms. 

He carried her to the bed as Brienne protested the position. “Probably the last time I’ll have you in a dress. Gods let me enjoy this wench.” Jaime hiked up her skirt and slid his hand into her smallclothes. Capturing her lips with his, Jaime began to rub her nub with his thumb while moving his fingers in and out of her folds.

Brienne’s breathing started to shallow as Jaime briefly paused his ministrations to undo his breeches and pull down his smallclothes. Pushing into her, Jaime moved his hand back to her nub and rubbed her as he thrust in and out of her warmth. Her walls began to contract around him and Jaime knew Brienne was getting close. Picking up the pace, Jaime pushed as deep as he could and sucked at the throbbing veins in her neck.

With a final cry of his name, Brienne came, but Jaime continued to rub at her nub and push deep inside her. His thrusting remained deep as he angled her legs differently and sank lower into her. Moving his left hand to her dress, he tore the garment down to expose one of her breasts; tearing the neckline in the process. Before Brienne could complain, he dropped his mouth to her nipple and began licking and sucking. He felt Brienne’s hand fist into his hair as she arched her back, pushing her nipple further into his mouth.

Abruptly, Brienne hooked her leg tight around Jaime and flipped them over. Sitting astride him, Brienne began to ride Jaime; her hands pushing firmly onto his chest and a smirk on her face. She knew how much he loved this position. Jaime threw back his head onto the pillow and arched his lower body into her. 

Jaime reveled in this position and it was an incredible turn on to be able to pull this off with Brienne in a dress. As she leaned back to hit the angle that always sent him over the edge, Brienne's inner walls clenched tighter around him and Jaime moaned with pleasure. With a few more strokes to his cock. Jaime came forcefully; spilling deep into her. 

As she slowed her rhythm, Jaime sat up and put his arms around her waist; holding her in place to prevent her from breaking their union. He was panting, but placed a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. “I love you Brienne.”

Brienne smiled against his lips and put her hands on each side of his face. “And I love you... husband.” Jaime felt a warmth flood threw him at her use of the word  _ husband _ . It was him, her, and ‘little Pod’ now. Jaime already knew that he would do anything for her, but the thought of what lay before them filled him was a deeper love than he ever thought possible. 

“I’m glad you don’t plan to wear the dress again, because I think I ruined it.” A smile tugged at both of their lips as Jaime continued. “Best we take it off now before more harm befalls it.” The pair slowly stripped each other down before sinking back into one another. Neither the wine nor the food on the platter would be consumed that night. Only their hunger for each other as they put the frame of the bed to the ultimate test. 


	28. Sansa VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just pure fluff... 7 years later. You've been warned.

Sansa leaned back in her chair on the veranda, taking in the sea breeze kissing her skin. Tilting her head towards the morning sun, she closed her eyes and took in the sounds around her. A light kiss touched her forehead and Sansa’s eyes fluttered open to find Tyrion’s mismatched pair staring at her. “Here you are! I was beginning to wonder if you finally came to your senses and left me; finding the first boat out of Tarth.”

Sansa chuckled. “No. I’m still very much lacking sound judgement.” Tyrion pulled up a chair beside her and exhaled loudly as he leaned back and looked out at the scene before them. Their oldest, a rambunctious five-year-old named Ned, was chasing Jaime across the grassy field with a wooden sword. “I got you Uncle Jaime! Right in the arse!”

Tyrion snorted and Sansa raised a brow at her husband. “Lovely. I’ve no doubt Ned learned that from Bronn.” Tyrion smirked and took a sip of tea. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Our master of arms would never use such crass words and methods of attack.”

Sansa snorted and looked back to the scene before her. Little Ned found himself hoisted atop Jaime’s shoulders as Jaime’s oldest three children continued to beat him mercilessly with their wooden swords. The six-year-old twins, Catelyn and Joanna, laughed loudly as they whacked Jaime in the shins and knees. Four-year-old Galladon came charging at his father, sword raised high.

Tyrion and Sansa winced and gasped as Galladon’s sword met Jaime in the most unfortunate of areas, effectively bringing his father to his knees. The four children then piled on top of Jaime as he rolled around clutching himself and begging for mercy. “I hope they didn’t want any more children after that shot.” Tyrion’s tone was teasing but held a hint of sympathy for the assault on his brother’s being.

Sansa guffawed and looked back to her husband. “With their sixth babe on the way in a mere seven years, I doubt those two know how _not_ to make babes.” From the corner of her eye, Sansa watched as Brienne and Selwyn approached. Selwyn was beaming as he held his three-year-old grandson, aptly named Selwyn, in his arms.

Brienne was glowing as she spoke to her father. She was entering her fourth moon of pregnancy and shared with Sansa last night that the sickness had finally passed.

Selwyn and Brienne took seats next to Tyrion and Sansa as Jaime slowly approached from the distance; a slight limp in his step from the assault placed on him. Jaime reached their group and took a seat next to Brienne.

As Jaime gingerly sat down with a groan, Tyrion snorted and looked to his brother. “Well, adding a seventh might prove a challenge after that last battle. Do you need your lady wife to kiss it and make it better?” Jaime smirked at Tyrion and responded, intentionally raising his voice a few octaves. “I’m just fine thank you.”

Brienne looked between the brothers questioningly. “What are you on about now?” Jaime smiled at her and pointed at the pack of wild children battling with tourney swords. “The feral one is at it again. Gal ran through your favorite bits of me with his sword.”

Selwyn laughed loudly. “At a boy! I’ve been wanting to do that for years.” The group chuckled as Jaime feigned offense. “You wound me goodfather. I don’t see you complaining about my efforts in filling your halls. You ask for an heir and I give you a fine selection... well… except that feral one. Don’t know what happened there.”

Selwyn chuckled and crossed his arms. “At the rate you two are going, I’ll need to build a second castle just for the grandbabes.” The sound of laughing babes echoed behind them as the maids emerged with the one-year-olds. Brienne smiled and extended her arms to take little Sansa from one of the maids. Sansa reached her arms out for her own one-year-old, little Brienne.

Sansa had been thrilled when she found out that Brienne and Jaime were expecting another babe around the same time as she and Tyrion. Their children would of course be close as cousins, but when the babes ended up being born within a moon’s turn of one another, Sansa knew the girls would have a special bond. Their husbands had groaned when each wife selected the name of her best friend to bestow upon the baby girls, but Sansa knew both men were thrilled with the turn of events.

Changing the subject, Sansa looked to Selwyn. “When is the ceremony for Catelyn?” Selwyn looked out at the playing children and smiled. “Tomorrow just after sunset. The island is quite excited to formally name their future Evenstar… even if little Cat is a _Lannister_.”

“Catelyn Lannister _of Tarth_ , father.” Brienne corrected quickly and Selwyn’s smile widened, and a teasing lilt hit his voice. “Yes, you have to take the good with the bad.” Jaime scoffed at the exchange and shouted to the children below. “Gal! Keep your breeches on!”

Jaime muttered to Brienne. “Gods, why is the boy always stripping down?” Brienne sighed and looked to her husband; a slight smirk on her face. “I have no idea where he gets his brashness from.” Sansa snorted at the exchange and smiled as she turned back to watch the children play in the field.

She and Tyrion had arrived on Tarth just days earlier after an uneventful trip from Winterfell. Jaime and Brienne had arrived days before them from the Rock.

Two years earlier upon Genna’s death, Jaime and Brienne had taken to splitting their time between Casterly Rock and Tarth. Sansa reflected on how much things had changed over the years. Her mind wandered as the scene before her faded away.

When Jon took the crown seven years ago, he had agreed to terms with Jaime and Brienne. Brienne would serve as Lord Commander until their first babe arrived. She would focus on training the new Kingsguard and building the city’s military defense until that point. Jaime knew the city better than anyone and would focus on helping restore it in addition to helping Jon wade through the mess that was the Seven Kingdoms.

The night after defeating the Unsullied and Dothraki when Jaime and Brienne had found Jon sitting alone outside the castle, Jon had just finished speaking with Sansa. Both Jon and Sansa recognized that the city was calling for Brienne and Jaime to take the throne together, but the Starks knew it was the last thing the knights wanted.

Jon understood better than anyone what it felt like to want nothing to do with leading, but still have it thrust upon you. His heart went out to the two knights who had been through so much and just wanted to lead a simple life together. As he sat alone, he knew what he had to do. He had to take his rightful place to spare two people from the same fate. What he didn’t expect was the conversation with those very knights that followed.

Hearing their interesting ideas, Jon agreed that he would rule, but he decided that he ask them for their support in the most pressing matters. Jon asked Jaime to stay on as Hand for two years and help put their ideas into motion. Jon had shared with Sansa the plans for Westeros. Plans that came directly from the city’s treasured knights. Jon was going to give the Seven Kingdoms back to its people; mirroring the kingdoms’ independence before Aegon conquered Westeros.

Before doing so, Jon wanted to ensure that every kingdom was in a good place to protect itself and its people. He required that each kingdom name a ruler and work with Jaime and Brienne to establish strong military presence and practice. 

Jon also required that every ruler agree to certain terms. To ensure they maintained the bonds formed in their shared goal of removing Daenerys’s forces from Westeros, Jon asked that each paramount select representation from each kingdom to serve on their small council; just as Jaime and Brienne had initially recommenced. It was the first of many great ideas that came from the knights.

With Brienne’s and Jaime’s help, Jon helped push through many significant changes before those initial two years expired and the kingdoms regained their independence. The first change was something important to Brienne and Sansa. Jon declared that to further equality between men and women, the firstborn would stand to inherit regardless of sex.

The second change was to ensure that both men and women were free to serve in military and defense training. Brienne enjoyed training the new women recruits and she even managed to convince Arya to aid her efforts throughout Westeros.

Two years into his rule and as agreed upon with Jaime, Jon felt the kingdoms in a good place to turn control over to their Lord or Lady Paramount. Lady Sansa ruled the North, Lord Robyn ruled the Vale, Lord Edmure ruled the Riverlands, Lord Selwyn ruled the Stormlands, Lady Mina Tyrell ruled the Reach, Lord Jaime Lannister ruled the West, and Prince Edric ruled Dorne. The Iron Islands were given independence under Yara; breaking from the mainland altogether.

The Crownlands would not be redistributed into the original seven kingdoms. Instead, Jon would maintain control of the Crownlands and oversee peace between the kingdoms. While the Kingdoms were independent in rule, they would all gather annually in the Crownlands under Jon to discuss trade, areas of collaboration, or to endure Jaime’s horrible jokes when topics ran dry.

Upon being released as Hand, Jaime ruled the West through Genna so his young family could settle into life on Tarth. Brienne needed to forge strong relationships with the vassal houses and Genna had already been castellan of the West for some time. Jaime knew his people were in good hands with her. Jaime had hoped that Tyrion would take the West and he would be free to enjoy his role as Lord consort of the Stormlands, but Tyrion had other plans. Tyrion elected to play consort to the Lady of the North.

Tyrion and Sansa grew closer in the initial year after Jon’s crowning. Their friendship blossomed into a romantic relationship and they ended up renewing their vows just before the birth of their son. Jaime was thrilled that his brother and Sansa found love, but he panicked at the realization that he would have no option but to rule the West.

Jaime implored Tyrion to take the West and start his life with Sansa there, but of course the proud wolf would not leave the North. Tyrion japed that Genna would outlive them all and Jaime would be free to laze about on Tarth while Brienne kept the Stormlands afloat. Neither brother knew that poor Genna would die not many years later.

Brienne herself had not wished to rule, but Selwyn had begrudgingly accepted his appointment by the other vassal houses of the Stormlands. Duty came first to the Tarths even if they wanted to rule as much as Jon Snow did. Selwyn did however take on a side project; educating Gendry Baratheon on the ways of Lordship. Selwyn had always liked Renly and saw a lot of the man in Robert’s bastard. Gendry was a quick learner and a great fighter. He had a natural way with people and was trustworthy.

While Arya had no desire to play lady and settle down, Gendry longed for it. He eventually met and wed a noble lady from another vassal house in the Stormlands. Selwyn secretly hoped that one of his grandbabes would wed the new line of Baratheons and unite their houses. Brienne secretly hoped the Stormlands would grow to accept the new Baratheon line and she could unload her status as Lady Paramount to them.

Unfortunately for Brienne, neither Gendry nor the other vassals seemed interested in that. They wanted their slayers to rule as much as King’s Landing had wanted the same. Brienne was surprised at the change in acceptance and behavior towards her from the other lords and ladies of the Stormlands. Where they once openly mocked her, they now regarded her with the highest degree of respect. 

It certainly didn’t hurt that her father and Jaime made it their personal mission to trounce anyone who so much as looked at Brienne the wrong way, but she sensed something different. The people and nobles genuinely respected her. Songs were sung of her great deeds and she no longer felt like a beast cast aside in her homeland. 

When Genna passed away unexpectedly, Jaime and Brienne had to split their time between the West and Stormlands until Jaime could find a suitable castellan. The Stormlands still had Selwyn to lead and Jaime needed to be more present in the west until they found a solution. After some careful consideration and training, Jaime selected his cousin Daven to lead in his absence until Lady Joanna Lannister came of age and ruled from the Rock. As Joanna got older, Brienne and Jaime knew she would need to stay longer at the Rock and shadow Daven.

Fortunately, with ‘little pod’ actually being twin girls, both the West and Stormlands had a new generation of heirs. Joanna was born first and would inherit the Rock. Catelyn was born second and would inherit Tarth. The people of the West and Stormlands adored the twin girls. They had the looks of the Lannisters, but with Brienne’s eyes, the wit of their father, and the physical prowess of their mother. Even at the tender age of six, the girls were smart, honest, just, and stubborn.

The sound of approaching children drew Sansa’s attention back to the present. As the twins grew tired of trouncing the boys and made their way to the adults, Sansa marveled at how much they looked like Jaime but with blue eyes. They were identical twins and got quite the kick out of playing tricks on the adults.

Joanna made her way to her father and climbed atop his lap while Catelyn looked eagerly at her mom. “Mother, can we go to the beach? Please!?” Brienne sighed, but Selwyn interjected. “I’ll take them. Let me spend time with my granddaughters before Cat’s big day.”

Joanna groaned. “I don’t understand. Why does Cat get a special ceremony and feast? I didn’t get one at the Rock.” Jaime laughed and looked at Joanna as she turned to him from her position atop his lap. “Because your grandfather has spent far too much time around Lannisters these past seven years. Now all of his events need to be over the top and unnecessary.”

Selwyn scoffed at Jaime and looked to Joanna. “Ignore your father, child! The Lannisters are a much newer house than us Tarths. There were not among the first men like our people. Our traditions run deep and the ceremony is important to our island. They haven’t the appreciation for it. The ceremony tomorrow is a longstanding tradition to formally recognize the future Evenstar.”

The twins listened in as Jaime and Selwyn continued their back and forth banter for some time. Eventually Selwyn stood to take the girls to the beach. Little Sel clung to his namesake as he often did, so their little group of four set off for the shore, leaving Sansa, Tyrion, Jaime, and Brienne with the youngest of the lot.

Sansa watched as Jaime and Brienne spoke lovingly in hushed tones. She thought it sweet that five children and seven years later, they still could not keep their hands off each other as was evidence by the sixth Lannister on the way.

Turning to her own husband, Sansa laughed lightly. She grew up thinking love was a shining knight coming to rescue the maiden fair from danger. Sansa learned a lot in recent years, but most of all she learned that one need not be a knight to rescue someone. One also didn’t need rescuing of only the physical variety. Sansa smiled warmly at Tyrion and took his hand.

Leave it to the Lannister brothers to bring love back to her life after it was the same family who took away the only love she knew prior.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who followed this story and took the time to comment. I am so thankful for it and hope everyone is staying safe out there. I'll miss this little story, but I suppose it had to end. No more over the top danger for Braime to save each other from in this fic. Maybe it was poor Jon who needed saving from Braime snark in the end.


End file.
